


your mind was twisted (your heart was no different)

by styles_allure



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Harry, Character Death, Fanfiction, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, I'm Sorry, It's going to be pretty sad, Larry fanfic, Liam and Niall are kind of minor characters I'm sorry, M/M, Rich Harry, Rough Sex, Sad Ending, Serial Killer Louis, Smut, Top Louis, Violence, hint of ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/styles_allure/pseuds/styles_allure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"All I want is for someone to care about me." Harry said, his voice so gentle towards the end that if Louis weren't listening so closely, he would've missed it. And his mind is an absolute wreck, because Harry is holding back tears; and Louis is holding a knife on his hip.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"They do, Harry." Louis doesn't stop his hand as it reaches across the table, grabbing hold of Harry's larger ones, and it's like a breath of fresh air was breathed into his lungs. Everything about Louis is so polluted and venomous, but he felt pure in the moment.</em>
</p>
<p> or the au where Louis is a notorious serial killer, who kills for the money. Harry has just inherited billions, and he is soft and gentle.</p>
<p>chapter 7: alternate ending with no death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt idea: @harryonmen  
>  
> 
> this fic doesn't end the way you think it will. this is my first sad fic, so hopefully it all goes well! thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

Crimson dripping over the piercing blade of a silver dagger. This had to be one of Louis' favorite sights. It wasn't because he had stolen the life of a person he barely knew, it wasn't the rush of watching the life drain out from their weak bodies. It was the confirmation. With every life Louis had brutally taken under his own accord, he was promised a large sum of money, the gratification of the kill one he could finally enjoy, knowing he would benefit greatly. With every harsh twist of the knife, every slice, every torturous heave, was an award that made it all worthwhile, at least it did in Louis' eyes. 

Watching as the police helplessly followed the empty, dead-end trails Louis would leave behind, made him smile, even the sickest of happinesses overcoming his being. They had no idea who could be behind the string of kills, and every single person withholding an impressive amount of money would sleep with one eye open.

The body slumped to the floor in a curdling thump, limbs hanging lifelessly to the side as the last wave of blood pumped out of the open wound, the heart ceasing to beat it's final beat. The poor bloke had never even guessed this would come, opening his heart, and his doors to Louis just days after they had met. Louis had a strict three-day policy. He would pursue each victim for those seventy-two hours, and it was more than enough time to effectively gain their trust. Louis could attribute that to blessed good looks. His face screamed innocence, with a hint of mystery behind ice blue eyes. Each and every victim would fall under his trance within seconds, and they were putty in his hands. It was like clockwork, and after years of unsolved murders under his belt, he was on a streak he wouldn't even hope to end anytime soon. 

Dan Princeton was no different. With a quick wipe of his blade, Louis shoved it back into his holder, held tightly against his right hip. It was over in just a few minutes, and though Louis knew what he was doing was twisted and incredibly wrong, he couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. It didn't matter how old, how successful, how kind the person was. They'd end up on the floor in a puddle of blood within that time period, and there was no argument whatsoever.

Louis scrunched his face up in disgust at the ruby liquid trickling towards his feet, picking his shoe up to prevent any chance of prints being left on the fresh white carpet. He sauntered over to the computer, lowly humming under his breath to the tune of 'Another One Bites The Dust' as cliche as that may sound. His fingers typed, clicking sounding through the mansion as he did so. He was in the system in no time, directing himself to the account Princeton had saved his earnings under. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cell as he dialed a number, the person on the other line picking up on the second ring.

"Louis, how'd it go?" Liam answered, his voice a hushed whisper.

"Flawlessly, what else would you expect?" Louis rolled his eyes, glancing back at the body, his vision focusing on the door and windows for a brief moment. Luckily, there was still no one there, quiet mansions with acres between any knowing neighbors made everything so much easier. "I'm in his account."

"Great. Send me over the information, I'll transfer everything into our decoy account, you'll have your commission in a matter of days." Liam said, typing heard in the background as he obtained the information needed to infiltrate the account, "Holy shit, Louis. There's over two million in his bank account."

"I know." Louis smiled, shutting off the computer and starting the dreaded clean-up process. "Twenty four years old, all his family dead, only friends around are ones who are after his riches. It was almost too easy to weasel my way into his mind, and he invited me over his place _that night._ "

"Did you sleep with this one?" 

"If I did or I didn't, it doesn't matter." Louis shrugged, Liam huffing on the other side of the line.

"Louis," He paused, "You need to keep yourself detached, you're going to compromise yourself one of these days." Louis had heard it all too many times, don't get attached, keep everything as neutral as possible while earning their trust. Unfortunately, Louis liked sex, and all these rich people were more than willing to go there. "He's still fucking dead, isn't he?"

"What if the police found _your_ bodily fluids inside of him?" Liam questioned.

"They never have in the past, and I've slept with countless numbers of them. I know how to clean up my fucking messes." Louis answered, wiping his hands after removing his gloves, running his finger tips over his hands. "Thank you for your relentless concern, though."

"Just trying to keep you out of prison, mate,"

"I got that." Louis snapped back, "I'll be fine. I'm going out for a pint with Niall later, are you going to join or are you just going to sit behind your computer and jack off all night?"

"Fuck you, Tomlinson. I'll be there, we just going to the usual?"

"Always," Louis sniffed, continuing to clean the furniture of any fingerprints, "Give me a bit longer to clean up everything here, then I'll be there, about an hour or so, is that okay?"

"Sounds great."

Louis hung up the line, pushing his phone back into his pocket. The cleaning process was what took the longest, making sure there was absolutely no evidence left over. The police would be here soon, searching with everything they have to try and find the one thing they'd need to get on Louis' trail. That's all it took, one mistake made would end this all, and it would condemn him to a life behind bars. In all honesty, that's what he deserved after the kind of life he lived, but the fun wasn't over yet. 

 

***

 

Going out for drinks seemed like such a _normal_ thing to do. The oddest thing about killing people for a living, was going back to an everyday life. It was hard at first, to pretend like your hands weren't soaked with the blood of too many people to even count. To pretend like he had any sort of regret after what he did. To shove a knife into the chest of a person, taking all their memories, taking their future away before they even knew what was happening. And Louis, he was a bad fucking person, something he knew all too well. Liam and Niall smiled under cheery words as they panged their glasses together, the celebration of yet another job well done.

The guilt got less and less prominent the more days that passed by. Louis still remembered the first person he had ever murdered, in pure cold blood, with no expression on his face at all. As hard as his exterior was at the time, he still went home, crying so hard he was dry heaving. When he opened his account the next day, all the sadness dissipated from his shoulders. A couple thousand dollars. Louis found out a harsh truth that day, there was a price tag on the life of another human being, and for him, a couple thousand would cut it.

Now, that was nothing less than child's play. A couple thousand was next to nothing, pursuing those worth _millions._ It wasn't a matter of paying bills or getting by, it was a matter of how rich Louis could make himself in such a short amount of time. He had various bank accounts, all tallying up to an impressive sum equalling over twenty million dollars, and that was after splitting that between Liam and Niall as well. He was bordering one of the richest men in the UK, and it was an amazing feeling, matched with no other. He wanted more, needed more. He wasn't a fool with his money either, spending it wisely over a long course. With as much attention the police were paying to any wobbles in Louis' plan, stupidly blowing the money on expensive houses, cars, other luxuries, would scream suspicious. 

Louis excused himself as he walked over to the bar, motioning for another strong glass of bourbon from the bartender. He sat as he waited, the chair next to him creaking as someone sat down, "Everything okay?" Niall asked.

"Yeah, more than okay." Louis smiled, raising the full glass of alcohol to his lips, taking a large sip as the liquid burned like venom down his throat, "Why?"

"You seem off."

"I'm thinking of the next person to pursue. I think we're getting to the end of the list."

"Louis," Niall took a deep breath, "Can I ask you something?" He played nervously with the empty glass in his hands, tilting in from side to side as he kept his eyes from making any contact with Louis.

"Shoot." Louis took another sip, downing the glass completely.

"Do you ever, I don't know, feel bad? Like, do you ever just want to quit, have a normal life, with a family? I feel like the path I'm going down will end with me being alone, being alone with a fat account, but still alone. The more I think about it, the more unappealing it sounds."

"No, absolutely not." Louis shook his head, "Families are overrated, in this world you need to look out for one fucking person, and that's yourself. It doesn't matter how much you think someone cares about you, they'll always end up hurting you, claiming, 'it's what's best for me.' Skip that step, make yourself happy, that's what's important. Fuck families and love and all that bullshit."

"Yeah," Niall shook his head, his voice going soft as he stood to his feet, "I just don't see it that way anymore." He gave Louis a pat on the back, sending him a sad attempt at a smile before walking away, leaving Louis alone at the small bar. 

"Idiot." Louis stood, the stool he was sitting on shrieking against the floor as he gave the table a wave, leaving through the door. There was no fucking reason to give up a life of ensured happiness, all because of what? A family? A relationship? What happened was, Niall had fallen for someone, and they successfully changed his outlook. They had blinded him from what he had been trying to achieve, and now he had different goals. He'd be gone within a week. It doesn't matter, that was just one less person to split the money with. 

Louis' flat was only about a five minute walk from the bar, his steps wobbly from the bourbon as he got closer to home. Taking a plane to Fiji sounded nice right about now, just relaxing on the beaches of white sand, staring at a sky of never ending blue, the sun beating warm rays on tanned skin. That might be the new plan for this weekend. The perks of doing what Louis did, being able to leave and travel whenever and wherever you wanted. Getting away from everything, more than enough money to do so. He didn't have a schedule, or hours he had to work, he was his own boss. Louis fucking loved it. 

He struggled for a couple minutes getting the key into the door, trying to unlock it with blurry eyes and a dizzy, light head. Finally, he heard the click as he twisted the knob. Louis walked in, being engulfed in the warm temperature as he closed the door behind him, locking out the freezing cold air that was dropping more and more each day. He switched on the television as he made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge to get out a fresh beer. The pop of the pressure being released shot through the flat, echoing as a face popped up onto the screen, the voice of the news anchor causing Louis' ears to hone in. 

"Anne Styles, withholder of the entire Styles' fortune has passed in a terrible accident. The entire family is in shambles over the death and claim, they have no idea what they're going to do. Styles was on vacation with her son and daughter when she was pulled into a riptide, and despite the efforts of her children, she was unfortunately unable to make it out. Her daughter, Gemma, was killed as well, after desperately swimming out to save her mother."

"Shame." Louis took a sip, flopping down on the couch, surrounded by the dark of his empty flat. He picked up the remote to switch the channel, but his attention was caught once again.

"The young son, Harry Styles, is the only family member left, and will be inheriting all of the fortune his mother had saved for him and his sister. He has refused to comment on the situation, saying that he couldn't care less about the money, and was focusing all of his time on preparing a funeral for his lost family members. The new billionaire is absolutely distraught, a source says, and has been in tears since the accident has happened this past weekend. The service will be closed off apart from distant families and approved guests, it is estimated the funeral itself will rack up a charge of four hundred thousand dollars, Harry going all out as he says goodbye to his family."

Out of all that nonsense, Louis heard three words, _Harry Styles,_ and _billionaire._

Harry Styles, whoever he was, was newly fucking rich. On top of that, he was emotionally destroyed. All that, was music to Louis' ears. He pulled his laptop over, opening the screen to type in the name. He spent a good chunk of time familiarizing himself with Anne Styles, and the enterprise she had built up. Apparently, she started out young at owning her father's business, which seemed to be rather popular in the stock market. She had a net worth close to three billion dollars, and she was a single mother to two children. Gemma, who was around twenty five years old at the time of her death, had been pursuing her own career in clothing. Harry, who is currently twenty one years old, was attending university, majoring in business, hoping to take over as head of the company after his mother was no longer able to.

There was no picture of either children, and Louis guessed it was probably an attempt at keeping their identities hidden from the rush of media after the tragic death. One article read that he would be in the south end of London preceding the funeral, meeting with a glassmaker to have a memorial set in the company's major location for his mother and sister. That's where Louis would find him. He searched refutable glassmakers in the area, finding one that was set on expensive prices and quality work. 

Louis curled his feet up under his bum as he laid on the couch, scrolling through articles about the boy. He told himself he was getting more familiar with his likes and interests so it would guarantee a successful encounter, but the truth was, Louis was actually really interested in this Harry guy. He was extremely smart, valedictorian of his class. He was a young businessman in the making, and had an impressive degree of knowledge, for sure. Everyone who had even an ounce of common sense were begging to get on Harry's good side, and it was almost impossible to find a negative article on him.

He seemed to be very private, not a lot of personal information openly put on the internet for everyone to see. He kept with a very close-knit group of people, and it was stated in tons of articles, money was not a priority to him. He valued his mother's legacy, and he wanted to earn a place for himself in this world, the amount he earned wasn't important to him, at all. The more he found out, the easier this became. He was almost perfect, the perfect kill. Louis shut off his screen, pulling a blanket he kept folded on the end of the couch over his body. He flipped the television to watch an episode of House Hunters International, falling asleep with thoughts of a billion dollar bank account.

 

***

 

A crisp suit was pulled out of his closet, pretty price tag on this one. It was perfectly fitted to accentuate Louis' frame, the dark color a contrast to the sheer white shirt underneath. Today was the day he was going to hang around the glassmaker's building, hoping to see anyone who looked remotely like a smart, young, and very wealthy boy. It wasn't going to be as easy as it had been in the past to locate the one he was looking for. But, over the years, Louis had acquired a talent for profiling. He was almost always spot on with the people he targeted, and he hoped this time wouldn't be any different. Driving down to the correct end of London was a quick journey, and it was only a matter of time before Louis would come face to face with the boy he had spent hours researching over the past couple of days. His name was all over the media, Harry this, and Harry that. He would be surrounded by a flood of reporters whenever they could, and he was always lost in the flash and a large crowd, Louis never quite seeing his face. However, he could see that he was tall, and somewhat lanky. He was thinner, and the suits he wore screamed expensive. Like, _I could buy a new house with that kind of money_ expensive. This kid was so rich he didn't know what to do with himself. 

Louis walked into the building, intricate glass displays covering almost every inch that wasn't a walkway. He fit in perfectly, so no one even blinked an eye as he walked by. In all honesty, Louis was probably richer than most people here, anyway. His eyes scanned for someone who resembled the figure Harry had. One particular boy stood out, looking over the most beautiful displays in the entire place. Louis sauntered over, walking slowly as he eyed each pretty glass design, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the boy. 

He wasn't anything too impressive. He wasn't much taller than Louis, really skinny. Shorter, almost black hair gelled onto the top of his head. He looked next to average, and Louis silently thanked the gods that he wasn't drop dead gorgeous, or killing him might be a little harder than usual. 

"Hey," Louis smiled shyly, "Do you know where I could find some structures for a party I'm having?" He asked the boy, who gave him a once over with his own eyes, an impressed smile spreading over his face. "No, but I'm looking at an eye catcher right now." 

Louis fought the urge to roll his eyes, each cheesy pick up line getting more and more ridiculous. "Well, thank you." Louis held out his hand, faux flatter on his features, "Louis, pleasure to meet you." 

"Greyson." He shook his hand, "The pleasure is all mine."

Fuck.

This was the wrong guy, Louis deployed to the escape plan, suddenly feeling on all of his pockets, a confused expression on his face, "I'm so sorry," Louis pulled out his cell, checking the screen, "I have to take this call." He put the phone to his ear, plugging his other ear as he walked away, "Hello?" 

Louis waited until he was out of sight, ignoring the calls he heard behind him, before he ended the fake phone call. He shook his head, biting the skin off his lower lip as he checked his screen. Rounding the corner of the further row of displays, a hard chest halted his steps, his phone fumbling in his hands and falling to the ground. "What the fuck? Watch where you're going." Louis snarled, bending down to pick up the phone. Another hand reached for the phone as well, grabbing it before Louis and picking it up. Louis stood to face the guy, holding his hand out for the phone, "Than-"

His voice halted in his throat, his eyes landing on the most stunning face he'd ever seen. He was absolutely gorgeous, waves of rich brown curling in a frame around his face. The color of his lips were an alluring pink, pulled up into a small smile. His eyes were a radiant green surrounded by a forest of thick black lashes. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." He said, his voice flowing like melted caramel, smooth, causing Louis' jaw to fall slack. "I think I broke the screen, I'm so sorry." 

"It's no- It's, uh, it's completely fine." Louis spluttered out, his voice a shaky mess as he stood mere inches from the boy. He smelled like cashmere and mint, the proximity of their bodies igniting Louis' body in a burning flame. "It was my fault, I should've been watching where I was going." 

"No, love, I was walking entirely too fast." He shook his head, admiring the screen in his large hands. He wore two rings, beautifully crafted over even prettier fingers. Fuck, even his fingers were beautiful. "It's shattered." He pouted, the full, plump bottom lip poking out.

A wave of electricity rippled through Louis' entire body at the sight, _fuck, fuck, fuck._

"It's fine, it's an easy fix." Louis assured him. The last thing on his mind was the damn phone screen. A man who looked like he stepped out of a magazine standing right in front of him. Louis' ass was throbbing at just the sight of him, if he was being completely honest here. 

"Let me take care of it." The man's eyes met with his own, and Louis fought the urge to moan under his stare. 

"You can _definitely_ take care of it." Louis stared back, dreamily. "I mean, the screen, you can take care of the screen, the broken one." He stuttered, his face blooming a bright red. 

The man laughed, the sound so endearing Louis could feel his stomach doing full pirouettes. "Yeah, I figured that's what you meant, love."

"I didn't mean to curse at you earlier, I was just a little frustrated over a, uhm, phone call, is all." Louis explained. 

"Understandable." He nodded, flicking his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it out agonizingly slow. Louis could feel he was staring, but he couldn't rip his eyes away. Why did everything he did feel so _sexual,_ it was like he was seducing Louis without even trying. "We all get frustrated."

_You're telling me_.

"The phone really is no problem." Louis drug the conversation out as much as possible. "I break them all the time."

"Damn iPhones, always shattering and shit." The man joked, the sound of curse words spilling from his lips having more of an effect on Louis than they probably should. "Might want to consider getting a case."

"I know, I know." Louis laughed, the sound coming out more nervous than anything, "I really should."

"Anyway," He took a deep breath, "I'll pay for it to be fixed, I don't mind at all."

"You don't have to worry about it," Louis shrugged, completely contradicting what he had said earlier, but it wasn't really the screen Louis was talking about, so he had a justifiable reason in his head, "It's not a huge deal." 

This was a first for Louis, being so overwhelmingly intimidated just by simply being under that stare of another person. But, Louis felt like his body was about to fall to a puddle around his feet, or he was going to experience his first ever touch-free orgasm. Either way, he wasn't used to being so heavily influenced, especially by someone he didn't even know.

"I'm sorry again," The man stepped forward slightly, sending Louis into a complete frenzy. His mind was in utter chaos, his body was on fucking fire, red hot, aching with the distance between them. He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists as the man held out the phone. "You can keep in contact if you'd like, if you can talk to me without bordering a climax." He smiled, more taunting, the left side pulled into a dimpled smirk.

"What makes you think you do that to me?" Louis asked, his voice airy, almost a whisper, all the confidence drained.

"I'm not blind." He raised his brows, "You're basically squirming." He kept their eyes locked.

Louis clenched his jaw, not realizing he had subconsciously stepped even closer to the man. He was so right, straight on point with his assumptions, "I'm not going to apologize."

"I'm not asking you to." 

There was a sizzling tension between them, the man continuing to speak in that deep, sexual voice of his, "If it counts for anything, I think you're _very_ attractive. I'm usually not as straight forward, but you've captivated me, and that's a pretty hard thing to do."

"Brownie points for me," Louis smiled, "I'm glad you like what you see."

"Like, is an understatement." He dropped his stare to Louis' phone, still offering it out between them, "It still works, if you ever want to chat me up."

"Give me your phone number and I'll see what I can do." Louis was surprised at his sudden flirtatious attitude, but instantly loved the effect as the man smiled at the words, a soft giggle from between lustful lips. 

Louis unlocked his phone as the man read out his phone number. Louis hadn't realized listening to someone say numbers could be so hot, and it was beginning to get ridiculous, the way Louis was responding to everything so quickly, and so strongly. The man turned on his heels as he began to walk away, Louis raking his eyes shamelessly up his back, his suit fitting well, too fucking well. "Wait," Louis called out, stopping him in his tracks, "I never caught your name." 

The man turned his head, green eyes wide, "Mine is Louis, by the way." Louis said before the man could even answer. 

His eyes traveled up Louis' body, stopping just at his eyes, blinking once before answering, "It's Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

It's been one week, and four days since the run-in with Harry. Still, unfortunately, the incident was still _very_ prominent on Louis' mind, with no hope in receding any time soon. And that fucking sucked. It was Louis' every intention to get the deed done with Harry, get it over with as soon as possible and profit the money, and he couldn't understand why that was so fucking hard. Every single time he pulled that phone out, running the tips of shaky fingers over each spiderweb crack, the hesitation was just too strong. His throat would dry out, his heart would start helicoptering, and he would blush, _fucking blush,_ and it was nearly unbelievable. 

Because Louis was fucking nervous.

And that's all there was too it, nothing more, nothing less. The procrastination was getting to the point where Louis was basically ridiculing himself. Not because being nervous wasn't a normal human behavior, but Louis wasn't normal, and it made him feel weak. He always prided himself on the control he had over his life, dictating every decision, ensuring it would benefit him, and no one else really mattered. Because fuck them, and that's the way the world worked best. Each day that passed was just another harsh kick in the gut that Louis was allowing something as stupid as an emotion get in the way of a billion dollars. And though Harry was stunning, sure, he was absolutely breathtaking; he was worth billions, and that's all Louis cared about.

Oh, and fucking him, definitely fucking him.

But, that wasn't the priority right now. 

Louis pulled out the paper carton from his pocket, pulling a cigarette between dry lips with the flick of a lighter. He inhaled a deep, burning breath, filling his lungs to full capacity with thick smoke. His mum had always told him- and shoved it down his fucking throat -that smoking would kill him and that he needed to rid of the disgusting habit. Well, everyone dies, and if Louis was going out that way, at least he wasn't fucking stressed, so that was basically the end of that. He rolled his eyes at the memory of his mum crying when she found his first cigarette, and it was honestly fucking hilarious, because Louis had stolen them from her own secret stash. Hypocrite. 

Walking into the petrol station made the day turn about a thousand times worst, because there was a line almost out the door, the guy standing at the front of the line felt the incessant need to argue about the petrol price, and it was really, _really_ annoying. Louis pulled his phone out, scrolling through the latest news updates, closing it immediately when every page was littered with new articles about Harry, and all Louis could think was, _why can't they leave the poor boy alone?_

Five minutes had passed now and that was five minutes too long. Louis stepped out of line, physically biting his tongue as he looked towards the front, and that idiot was still fucking arguing. It took every ounce of his being not to say something, to rid of him and get the line moving, because he had places to be, and standing here while his hair turned grey was a ridiculous thing to do in the meantime. 

When seven minutes went by, Louis had finally had enough, shoving his way to the front with a harsh nudge of his shoulder. The man stared at him, wide-eyed, as he stood right next to him, raising his brows, "Are we quite finished here? It's been too long mate, time's up." 

"Have you seen the prices? It's ridiculous! Milking my wallet dry." 

"Mate, you're honestly talking to the wrong person, because I couldn't give less of a shit, now can you move along?" Louis tried, failing miserably to sound polite.

"Do you not care? This is a real issue!" The man shouted, the poor bloke behind the counter looked like he was contemplating a nice stroll into a busy street. Louis honestly didn't blame him.

"Okay? Go fucking blog about it. He's a cashier, he has nothing to do with the prices, go do something better with your life." Louis bit back, his face scrunching into annoyed confusion, because why the fuck would he care about petrol prices? 

The man opened his mouth, no words coming out and his face looking so red he might be about to pop any second now. Louis waved him on, gesturing for him to speak, and it only seemed to make matters worst. The man grabbed his things, storming out of the door, the small jingle of the bell taking a bit of the effect away as he left. "About fucking time," Louis muttered under his breath. He looked behind him, everyone in the line trying their absolute hardest to refrain from making any sort of eye contact. Louis took that as an opportunity, paying for his share of petrol and leaving within seconds. 

A vibration shook his leg, signaling a new notification as he pulled it out. It was a message from Liam, asking if he'd gotten the latest commission before he happily replied, sending a yes with a screenshot of his nicely grown back account. And the stars had to line up perfectly, fate coming forth as the biggest bitch on the entire planet, because there was a familiar curly haired boy standing beside his car; which was right next to Louis'. Because that was bound to fucking happen, of course. Louis bit his bottom lip, watching the pavement as he walked to his car, his footsteps so loud it made him cringe, because Harry was bound to see him, and he was probably going to say something.

Louis didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Hey there," A voice called out, and the accent paired with the smooth flow was already making Louis' knees weak, "Blue eyes."

Louis bit the inside of his cheek as he looked up, already mentally preparing for the rush of overpowering heat he knew would spread through his body. "Is that how you remember me?" Louis replied, not feeling the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"I gotta say, it was a bit surprising when you never called, or texted, you seemed so interested." Harry pouted, sticking out his lower lip, "I was so looking forward to that."

And he looked fucking adorable, it was disgusting.

"I," Louis started, scratching his forearm over his jacket, "I was nervous, it was weird." 

"It's not weird to be nervous."

"It is for me." Louis was all too aware of Harry stepping forward, but luckily he wasn't able to step too far, because he was latched to the pump sticking into his gas tank.

"How've you been?" Harry asked, starting up small talk as if they had known each other a while now, "I would've asked you sooner, but you never called, so." 

"I've been, uh, pretty good. Same as usual, and yourself?"

Harry licked his bottom lip, his tongue a deep pink, leaving it wet, shiny. Louis was screaming at himself in his head, hoping it didn't seem obvious, because he needed to stop being so _fucking endearing._ "I'm doing better."

A pang of guilt hit Louis, because even though he had read all of the articles about Harry, he never truly _read_ them, and he probably should be more familiar with what happened with Harry's family, but the word _billionaire_ tended to have a clouding effect on Louis' mind. 

"I know you're asked about this all the damn time," Louis took a breath, squirming uncomfortably, knowing Harry's eyes were on him, "But are you, are you _really_ okay, or do you just say you are?" 

"It's kind of tricky." Harry smiled gently. And do you know the feeling you get when you're about to speak in front of a crowd, and you're scared because you know you'll say something stupid, and your words were going to come out a stuttering mess, and you're going to make a complete fool of yourself? Because that feeling was Louis personified right now, and he felt like he was shrinking under Harry's focus, and he fucking hated it.

"I'm sorry," Louis shook his head, becoming more aware of the shakiness behind his voice. "It gets better with time."

"They all say that." Harry pulled the pump, placing it neatly back on the rack. There was this undeniable sadness in his voice, and Louis didn't want to be kind of thrown off by that, but he was. He really was. And Harry's eyes were glossy, because he had been crying, and that hurt even more. It was inevitable, talking to Harry, because he was the next target, but this was too delayed, way overdue, and Louis needed to keep his mind focused.

But it was so damn hard when he looked that sad.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Louis asked, clenching his teeth as soon as the words came out. There was a main rule Louis promised to always follow when it came to the people he pursued, and that was simple: _don't get emotionally involved_. Yet here he was, barely paragraphs spoken between them, and he was breaking that rule. In fact, he was shattering it with a hammer and jumping up and down on it, because his heart thumped when he saw the smile spreading over Harry's face.

"That would be nice."

His hair was blowing in the wind in such a way that he looked like an angel, and it was the worst possible thing, because he was so undeniably gorgeous, that it made Louis wholly insecure. He felt he was incomparable next to Harry, mostly because Harry was void of any flaws, and even the loose hair of his eyebrows were cute. "Where d'ya want to go?"

"There's a diner right down the street, are you hungry?"

"Starved, actually." No, he wasn't, he'd just eaten an hour ago, but in this situation, yes he was. 

"Great." The smile that lit up Harry's face was radiating with light, and he was probably the sun. There was a war raging in Louis' head, and his body, happiness and anger fighting relentlessly. Because Louis didn't want to be so excited to spend this time with Harry, but he was, and that made him so mad that he was seeing red. 

"I'll follow you, yeah?" Louis asked, walking over to sit in the drivers seat of his car, which was actually not much nicer than Harry's. The reasoning behind his confusion was that he was expecting a Bentley, maybe a nice Mercedes, but Harry drove a Ford. 

Harry nodded, climbing into his little car that he looked entirely too big for, and drove off. He was going slow enough so that Louis could follow suit, and it was obvious that he was checking his rearview mirror to make sure he stayed close. There was a small part of Louis that wanted to veer off into a ditch, and another part that wanted to get Harry fucking wasted, but a prominent part that just wanted to enjoy the conversation. Of course, the last option was the worst one he could've probably chosen, but fuck it, it was one night. 

The small diner was only about three kilometers from the petrol station, and it was practically dead, which meant the privacy was more than adequate. It was cute, and Louis couldn't help but wonder why he had never seen this place before, he had to have passed it more times than he could count. He pulled up right next to Harry, and watched as Harry unbuckled his seatbelt. Harry wore a seatbelt for a quick drive, and it was absolutely normal, but it was more than adorable when Harry did it. Only because it was Harry that was doing it. 

"How've I not seen this place?" Louis wondered, walking to stand beside Harry as they walked towards the entrance. He pretended not to notice the surge of electricity that made his body go rigid at the slightest touch. It was practically insane, because Louis had been with so many men he was sitting on a fucking list, but never had his body been so responsive. If the smallest brush of their arms did this, Louis couldn't imagine what his bare skin would do, what his lips would do, and his body was on fire just thinking about it. 

But he shook the thoughts, right now, Harry wanted to talk, and that's they were going to do.

Sometime between the frame of this morning and right now, Louis had apparently lost his personality completely. The way his mind was working, the way his thoughts came out, were already so different than a few hours ago. Because he was really just thinking about why shower sex needed to be so fucking hard, and how they really should have more railings in those damn things. But now, all he could think about was what he could say to make Harry's mind ease a bit, and that was foreign, and it was actually pretty terrifying. 

"It's pretty secluded."

"Harry it's- it's right off the side of the road." 

"I meant secluded in the aspect of the popularity versus the location. It's older, and a bit more vintage, so everyone prefers something with a bit more variety."

Louis nodded along with Harry's explanation, "Why do you like it?"

They were entering the warm diner now, and Harry was dead right, it was like they had flash-backed to the eighties. "No one around, it's nice to kind of get away from the public eye, y'know?" 

"I bet it is," Louis agreed, "I also bet it gets annoying pretty quickly, being followed."

"Yeah," Harry let out a breathy, almost exhausted laugh, taking a seat at the booth along the far wall, "It really does; photographers."

Louis slid in the seat directly across from Harry, "Photographers? No. They're glorified stalkers, nothing better to do than follow people around and fucking flash their cameras at them until they can't see, it's rude. It's uncalled for."

Harry's brows raised at Louis' slight outburst, the teasing smile on his lips. He looked like a work of art, likely because he _was_ a work of art, the old neon lights scattering the diner falling perfectly on his face. Why the fuck did he have to look like that? _Why the fuck not?_

Harry looked over the menu, and suddenly Louis was hungry, his stomach grumping as he looked through his own. It was simple, burger, chips, soda, but it was kind of nice. Louis hated going to restaurants and reading an entire fucking book before he could finally pick out his order, simplicity was key. There was this old style music coming from a juke box and it made Louis smile, of course they had a juke box here. It added to the vibe, and he felt like he needed to slick his hair back and start talking with an American accent, letting a toothpick hang out of the side of his lips, because that was what being in this diner felt like. 

"For some reason, I picture you in a fancier place, with plates that are essentially unpronounceable. I swear, they just jumble up letters, add accent marks, and hope for the best. Like, it's a fucking steak, stop with your hard-ass phrases."

That earned a giggle from Harry, and it was the most beautiful sound, it was almost enchanting. 

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Harry smiled up from under his lashes, and Louis could swear his stomach flipped upside down. "I like, uh, blending in? For lack of better words." 

"Is that why you drive a Ford?" Louis prodded, his own smile starting to hurt his cheeks, and he can't help but wonder how long it's been there. 

"Yeah," Harry nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "Don't like to attract attention." 

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, babe, but you could be dirt poor and you'd still get attention, that's just the truth." Harry's face went pink when Louis said the word _babe,_ and Louis started to like the look of that. Harry was a mixture of sex on legs and an adorable, giggly boy. It was like perfection merged with charming, and they had a baby, and his name was Harry Styles. 

Oh, and he was rich as all hell, but Louis had forgotten about that for the moment.

"Are you trying to say I'm cute, Louis?"

"Ah," Louis held up his index, "So you do remember my name."

"Of course I do. I was just fucking with you, you seem like the type to hate pet names." 

"Hate is a strong word." 

"You never answered my question."

Louis rolled his eyes in play annoyance, "I was practically drooling on your fucking shoes, trying not to tremble while you talked to me, of fucking course I think you're cute. You blind or something?" 

"Nope," Harry gave that tiny little smile, the one that made him look adorably mischievous, "Just wanted to hear you say it."

"Clever."

"Only sometimes." 

The woman came over to take their order, and Louis was a bit disappointed that she wasn't on roller skates, because it would've fit so perfectly. Harry ordered first, and Louis honestly wasn't even surprised that their orders were identical, thanking Harry silently as he said, "I'll have the same, thank you." 

Harry wore an expression that looked like he wanted to say something, but he just couldn't get the words out. So Louis spoke for him, "Talk to me about it."

And the flood gates opened.

"You know what the worst part about this whole thing is, Louis? That I've just watched my sister and mother _drown_ , I've just lost the only family I was ever close to. And you know what? All anyone cares about is the money, the inheritance, not the deaths. They don't care about all my mum's hard work, about how she'll never get to see her enterprise grow. It's money this, and money that. And no one has said they were sorry, no one has wished me luck. Because they're entirely too busy cramming questions down my throat about what I'm going to do with these billions. I just want to scream at them, to leave me the fuck alone, because it doesn't matter to me, because it won't bring my family back, so what's the point, you know?"

"Unfortunately love, the world is full of labels. People see what they want, hear what they want, and sometimes they're missing out on what they need to focus on. Money is so important these days, because it basically defines you, rich versus poor, and that's where you start judging the importance. It determines who you are as a person, and even when you're gone, the worth remains, and the focus follows suit." Louis explains, and he is so, so incredibly hypocritical because even through his words he can't stop thinking to himself;

_I kill for that money, I'm killing you for that money._

He's sick, he's fucking twisted, but that's what was going to happen, and there was no sense in pretending.

"All I want is for someone to care about me." Harry said, his voice so gentle towards the end that if Louis weren't listening so closely, he would've missed it. And his mind is an absolute wreck, because Harry is holding back tears; and Louis is holding a knife on his hip. 

"They do, Harry." Louis doesn't stop his hand as it reaches across the table, grabbing hold of Harry's larger ones, and it's like a breath of fresh air was breathed into his lungs. Everything about Louis is so polluted and venomous, but he felt pure in the moment. 

Harry didn't pull away, and the soft squeeze to Louis' hand was all it took to send a wave of chills down his spine, because it was so small, and it was so, so powerful at he same time. "How do you know that?" Harry asked, his eyes were brimming, and Louis tried to think on his feet, tried to say anything he could to stop those damn tears from spilling over, because they were _right fucking there._

"Because I just do."

Fucking idiot. 

Harry took a deep breath, and bit back his lip, fighting back the tears welling in his eyes. Louis' stupid statement must've had the right effect, because Harry was smiling now, and the realization made Louis' stomach twist. Harry thought Louis was insinuating that he cared, but did he? His mind begged him to say no, but the way their hands were still locked, and the way Louis was bubbling in his seat, begged to differ. 

_Don't say you care. In fact, don't care at all in the first place._

Harry is a target, he is a dead man walking, and he is just getting himself closer and closer to death. But Harry was also more than that, because he was consuming Louis' thoughts, and at the same time he was nothing.

It was all overly confusing, a jumbled mess, and a load of incoherent thought. 

Louis tried to pull his hand away, to disconnect. Fucking them was one thing, holding their hand was completely different. But, he didn't, and neither did Harry, so there they sat, holding hands. It was like Louis was writing out Harry's death plan, and Harry was unknowingly helping him along. He had tried to keep himself away from Harry, after feeling like a roller coaster of emotion when they first met, and Louis didn't know if he wanted to fuck Harry, or fucking hold Harry, but it was giving him a headache. 

"First, you acted like you couldn't stop thinking about me completely naked, now you act like a different person, I can't peg you, Louis." 

"Which one do you like better?" Louis asked, not wanting the answer because it didn't matter, but also really wanting to know at the same time. His eyes darted to Harry's lips, which he instantly regretted, because now he was off track, his mind even more scattered than before, as if that was even possible. He was carved by Christ himself, and he had to be the epiphany of beauty, but he was also going to die soon. Tragically, very tragically beautiful. 

_Seventy two hours._

"Both." 

The simple word made Louis' skin crawl in goosebumps all the way to his toes and then some. They were flirting, and it was so easy, so natural. They were sitting alone in a flashback diner, still waiting on their food, and their hands were still connected, and it was still wrong. It was still fumbling around in Louis' head, how this situation could be any different than the previous ones. It wasn't different, Harry was a dollar sign, he was an addition to a bank account, and it was a simple task he had done countless times. It was getting this far because he was willing to let it get this far.

So he jerked his hand back, and Harry's smile dropped, slowly, but it did. 

Two plates of steaming food were placed directly in front of them, the smell so good it was nauseating, as if that made any sense whatsoever. For the first couple minutes, they ate in silence, and even though Harry wasn't speaking, he was screaming at the same time. He looked like he was hurt, and Louis knew why, but he couldn't bother to care.

Even though he did.

The silence was almost defending, and it made the pounding in his heart painfully loud. He didn't want his mind to react this way, and every now and again he'd revert back to the Louis he knew, but it was only for a quick moment. He didn't want to feel this way, to feel all the emotions he pretended didn't exist. He had tried so hard to build this shell, the hard exterior, because he didn't want to be breakable.

But there was something about they way Harry looked when he smiled, the way his eyes could say more than his words ever could, the way his curls were spirals and waves at the same time, and Louis was enamored by him. Everything about him, and he didn't even know him, not even a little bit. They had barely talked, but every time they did, Louis couldn't stop smiling, which was fucking ridiculous. Everything felt so easy, it felt like he was supposed to be here right now, sitting in this hidden charm of a diner. 

The silence continued, and the air was getting tense, even though it wasn't supposed to. 

The minutes were ticking down to Harry's last breath, to his very last words, and the very last person he ever saw. They were ticking away so fast, and though it hadn't been more than an hour, if felt like it was rushing by. Louis' mind was so cynically melded into a pit of despair and revolt, and he was a terrible person, all information he knew and actually prided himself on, because he was fucking crazy. He was giving himself whiplash with the way his thoughts were jerking him from side to side, playing a tug of war in his head, even though he knew who the winner would be when it was all said and done.

And Louis couldn't care, he shouldn't care.

But that didn't stop him from sliding his hand over and locking it again with Harry's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys let me know what you think so far, feedback is so, so important to me, and I would really appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3

Louis always gave himself three days, but that was about eight days ago. 

It was getting to the point where it was almost comical, because when the day actually came, Louis actually _faked sick._ He honestly fucking pretended to be sick, to get out of seeing Harry that day. And that was just fucking hilarious. For some reason, every time Louis would remind himself of his true intentions, he would feel sick to his stomach, and suddenly he wanted to think about something else. And he was procrastinating, he was procrastinating killing someone, what the fuck was happening to him?

It was getting a little annoying, well, more like _really_ annoying. The way all Harry had to do was smile that stupid, half smile where that damn dimple popped out, and Louis would fall to a puddle in a matter of seconds. It was his voice, and the way his lips would turn up during certain letters, and the tiny freckle just under his lip. It was the fact that when Louis slid his hand over that night at the diner, relief washed over Harry’s features and it made Louis fucking sick.

Because Harry shouldn’t feel comforted, and Louis definitely shouldn’t like that he had that effect. 

His heart didn’t stop drumming in his chest, and his mind never stopped reeling, and suddenly the air was cold because Harry wasn’t sitting close enough. And Louis was fucking pathetic. Every time that heat rushed to his face, making his hands shake and his throat dry out, he would get so pissed off. Because why the hell was he acting like this? Why the hell was he allowing himself to let these stupid feelings dictate his days? Nothing made any sense, so he avoided Harry at all costs.

Well, apart from one.

He would call Harry every night before bed. And it wasn’t because he needed to get information from him, it wasn’t to pry into Harry’s head. It was because Louis slept better after hearing Harry’s voice. Again, Louis was fucking _pathetic._ They’d talk about pretty much nothing, and Harry liked mint ice cream, he liked warm jackets after they were done in the dryer, and he really enjoyed having a fan on while he slept.

And they were pointless discussions, but they were so damn adorable.

Because Harry was so damn adorable.

It wasn’t even just the lust, because Louis couldn’t decide if he wanted to sleep with Harry, or sleep next to him. And his brain was mush because all the blood was rushing to his face whenever Harry would laugh. And the sound was so endearing, it was the most beautiful sound. Louis wasn’t sure if all the years of pretending he wasn’t fucking crazy were finally hitting him, because he was loosing his mind. 

He was about to do something that was actually borderline embarrassing, he was going to use Google and hope it had more answers; because he was coming up empty. He pulled out his laptop, opening safari and clicking the search bar.

_Heart racing when you’re around a certain person._

Articles pulled up in the thousands, and Louis slammed his face down on the keyboard, and he was sure there was going to be some kind of key outline. Every single link had similar questions, only the contained that dreaded L-word that Louis refused to ever use. Because it didn’t exist, after all. It was all gooey fucking blogs about “falling in love,” and “meeting your soul mate.”

What the _fuck_ is a soul mate?

Honestly, what else did he expect, though? the question said it all, heart racing around a certain person. Unless that person was holding a knife to your chest, usually it was because you were nervous, and your body was responding to something that was completely intriguing your mind. So it was obviously going to go to that “love” bullshit. But couldn’t it just be desire? Louis wasn't falling for Harry, because he barely knew the guy, and because Louis doesn’t _love_ anything.

But his body was begging to differ.

His phone vibrated on the couch beside his thigh, and that little shit was always turning up at the worst of times. Harry’s name was flashing over the screen, and Louis debating chucking it out the window. But, he needed it, so he decided to just answer it instead.

“Hello, Harold.”

“Hello, Louis. I was surprised to see you hadn’t called yet, it’s getting late, thought maybe you fell in a ditch or something.”

“Nope,” Louis could feel himself smiling, and it was fucking ridiculous because Harry wasn’t that damn funny, “I’m actually not in any ditch, but thanks for being so concerned.”

“No problem,” Harry took a deep breath, and Louis rolled his eyes because he knew what Harry was going to ask before the words even left his lips, “What’re you doing tomorrow.” 

“I, uh, I have some plans with my family, what about you?” Louis lied smoothly, shrugging his shoulders.

“You mean the family you were telling me how much you hated two nights ago?” Harry asked, and Louis knew he wasn’t buying it. “Yeah. We, we worked it out.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“For fucks sake, Harry.” Louis fell back on the couch with a loud moan. Harry was asking every day for Louis to come see him, and it wasn’t Harry’s fault, because Louis really was leading him on by calling every night. And a lot of the conversations consisted of Louis saying “cute,” and “that’s adorable” to almost everything Harry said. So, naturally, Harry wanted to hang out with Louis, because that’s what normal people did. 

“If you don’t want to see me, then just say it, Louis.” Harry sounded defeated, and Louis’ stomach dropped to his feet. “It’s not that, Harry.”

“Well you mind explaining? Because we talk all the time, and you clearly sound interested, but then you lie every time I ask you out.”

“I’m playing hard to get.”

“Stop that, then.”

“Fine.” Louis said, smacking his palm against his forehead, “What do you want to do, exactly?”

“I was going to see if you wanted to come over my place for dinner?” Harry asked, and that damn smile was on his face, and Louis hated that he could tell by just the sound of his voice. “I won’t poison you, I promise.” 

Louis laughed, and it was a stupid little giggle, and he never fucking giggles. “That’s good to know.”

“Is that a yes?”

Louis clenched his jaw, because he knew the entire time he’d be fighting off those stupid feelings that came creeping up on him. And that Google search was still stuck in his head, and he was really just hoping that there was another reason Harry made him feel like that. But, nope, Louis just really liked him. Which was just fucking dandy, because he still had to kill him, and the whole “feelings” thing was kind of making it hard. 

“It’s a yes.”

Harry squealed, yes, he _squealed_. And Louis' heart flipped, because of course it would. It always went crazy when he talked to Harry. And now he was excited about tomorrow, and that really sucked, because it’s another day closer to the inevitable death that lingered over like a storm cloud, ominous, but ever so persistent. 

“Okay, well I was thinking maybe spaghetti? I remember you saying that was your favorite, right? With meatballs, but not too many. And a lot of tomato sauce, right?” Harry’s words were so quick they were stumbling over each other. He remembered Louis saying spaghetti was his favorite, how was he so fucking cute? It was disgusting how amazing Harry’s memory was, and how he recalled everything Louis told him from _days_ ago, but he couldn’t remember the password to his email.

Because he remembered what was important to him, and that was just _great._

“Calm down, sweetheart, you can make whatever you want, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I just want you to really love it.”

“I will.” 

There was a silence, and Louis could hear a small rustling in the background of Harry’s phone, “What’re you doing, love?”

“I’m cleaning everything out from under my bed.” Harry’s voice was muffled, and Louis was probably on speaker phone. 

He found himself wandering the space of his flat, and it was something he always did for some reason, because he would usually talk to Harry for hours. The first time he called, it was just to make sure Harry had gotten home safely. For some reason, they just talked, and talked, and talked, and before Louis knew it, it was almost two in the morning. After Harry had openly talked about the death of his mum and sister at the diner, he was an open book, and the stories just kept coming and coming. 

It took Harry a bit to finally say the words aloud, but after Louis had reconnected their hands, it gave him the reassurance he needed, and Louis remembered everything he had said,

_”It was like slow motion, and water is so hard to run in, y’know? I was splashing and screaming her name but there was no one around, there was no answer. She couldn’t have even gone out very far, so she had to be close. But the ocean is fucking huge, and she could be right there, and then so far away at the same time. It felt like hours, but was probably seconds. Then, my sister’s voice stopped too, and then it was just me standing there. I was having, like, a panic attack, and I thought I was going to pass out because they were gone. All so suddenly, and I kept expecting them to pop up, but no. It was eerily calm, and silent, and my lungs were hurting because I couldn’t breathe. And someone was dragging me out by my forearm, and all I could do was yell at them, tell them that my mum and sister were still in there. But all they said was ‘they’re gone, Harry.' I just couldn’t accept it.”_

At that point, tears were soaking his cheeks. Louis' hand raised, obviously without his permission, to cup Harry’s face, and the pad of his thumb was wiping away the wet streaks. And they were staring into each other’s eyes, and something inside Louis snapped. It felt like he was tumbling down a black hole, but that was okay, because the green of Harry’s eyes were getting brighter. There was a smile building on Harry’s lips, and it was sweet, it was sincere, and Louis could feel that he was mirroring that same expression.

Because at that point in time, the world was a blur, and they were the only people there, Harry was the only relevant thing. 

Honestly, when Harry walked Louis out after hours of talking, and smiling and being gross with all that cheesy stuff, Louis made a beeline to his car. And Harry just stood there, his face completely covered in confusion, because Louis fucking darted. He didn’t want to risk kissing Harry, because he knew he was going to try it, and he knew it would be the last thing it took to break him.

He was holding onto his sanity like a child holding onto to their teddy bear. He was desperate not to let this get far, to let himself fall into Harry’s hypnotizing stare, and not let his mind drift from the real reason he was even here in the first place. Because falling in love with your own murder victim wasn’t a very good idea in any aspect, really. 

“I don’t know why there’s a fucking shoe under here, I’ve never even seen this thing, I don’t have any shoes like this?” Harry sounded so befuddled, and it was pretty hilarious.

“You’ve got a shoe graveyard under there, huh?” Louis laughed, pulling tiny strands of fabric from the towel sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Apparently so, not even my shoes, which is a little odd. And there’s- what is this?” 

“What?” Louis asked, imagining Harry laying flat on his belly, pulling out things from underneath his bed, “It’s a, a, maybe a Poptart? Or it was, at some point.”

Louis’ nose scrunched up, “Gross, Harry. What the fuck?” 

“I have no idea, that’s been there since the fucking prehistoric age, I swear to God.”

“I love it when you curse, you look too innocent to be saying those words, babe.” Louis’ stomach bubbled, because Harry really did have this sweet exterior, despite how undeniably flirty he was, and hearing such crude words slipping from his pretty lips, was just so _hot._

“Is that so?” Harry’s tone was teasing, “Shit. Fuck. Damn. Piss. Ass.”

“I’m hard already,” Louis joked, well, half joked.

“Good.”

“Any interesting stories about your day, today?” Louis asked, hearing Harry shuffle towards the phone at an amazing speed. And he smiled as soon as he heard Harry start talking, because this question always made him explode with numerous stories about every little thing that happened that day. Harry loved talking, and Louis loved listening to him.

So he sat on the couch, pinning the phone between his shoulder and ear. Fingers folding over his stomach as he closed his eyes, getting lost in the sound of Harry’s voice.

 

****

 

Harry was going to be here to pick Louis up any moment, _insisting_ that he give Louis a ride, though he was more than capable of driving himself. He was rushing to clean his flat, at least tidying it so that it was presentable, nothing laying around that screamed, “I’m a serial killer,” or anything of the sort. Right on cue, Harry knocked on the door, a little tune that made Louis roll his eyes, because Harry would be the type to knock like that. Every thing he did made him even more perfect. Louis wiped his hair back from his forehead, looking around, shrugging because that was as good as it was going to get. 

He opened the door, and his heart probably fell out of his ass. Because Harry was stunning, and he was even more stunning that last time Louis saw him. It was due to the fact that he’d only heard Harry’s voice for over a week, and this was the precise reason why. He was already acting like an idiot, and he suddenly forgot how to speak, or even breathe. Because he was sitting there, staring at Harry with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Y’alright, love?”

_Love, for fucks sake._

“I’m fine, you, uh, you,” Insert awkward cough, “You look amazing.”

“Really?” Harry smiled, and Louis’ heart skyrocketed again, “Thank you.” 

He truly did look amazing, in tight black jeans and a silk, salmon pink button up shirt. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t look like it was hand drawn by an angel, and it was making Louis’ mouth water. Because he was beautiful, but he was also so, so sexy at the same time. 

“You ready?” Louis’ voice came out shaky, and it was incredibly noticeable because a pink blush was creeping up on the bridge of Harry’s nose, “Yeah,” Harry nodded, “Let’s go.”

And they walked down the hall towards where Harry was parked, in his cute little Ford that made him blend in with everyone else. Harry’s fingers laced into his own, and his jerk-knee instinct should’ve been to pull away, because he never holds anyone’s hand. But he held it back, and even gave Harry’s hand a small squeeze. It actually surprised him, but those tingles came back, and they spread all the way up his arms and to his toes and a smile spread across his face in an instant. 

Getting in the car, Harry locked their hands together again as soon as Louis took the passenger seat. And their twisted fingers sat just on the top of Harry’s thigh, “I’m glad you decided to come out."

“Me too.” Louis responded, noting the soft tone of his voice, missing it’s normal harsh edge. 

“Talking on the phone just isn’t enough sometimes, I wanted to see you.” Harry looked over, the simplest of smiles coating his lips, that perfectly round dimple making it’s appearance. 

“I wanted to see you, too.” Louis answered, and it was the truth. Deep down, Louis really wanted to see him. He was starting to love his little stories, and he wished he could watch Harry’s facial expression change as he told them. He knew he would be so animated. But the phone was safe, because Louis wasn’t persuading himself to stay on track, he was just _listening._

“I only live about five minutes from you, while we’re over here acting like we’re in some sort of long distance relationship.”

_Relationship, fuck._

Louis stayed silent, running his thumb over the indents of Harry’s knuckles, feeling the silky smooth skin. He was wearing those rings again, the ones that looked hand crafted, and Louis’ head fell back onto the seat as he watched his finger. He was growing fond of the way his body felt right now. Because he felt alive, and he felt like there was nothing negative in the world. He was also growing fond of the smell, cashmere and mint, that infiltrated the space of the small car.

They pulled into Harry’s driveway soon after, and his house was fucking huge. It was white, looking like it belonged in a catalogue, ones that poor people read to torture themselves. Columns surrounded the front, big, glass double doors for the entrance. Whoever covered their landscaping was a fucking mastermind, because his yard looked like a fairy tale, the whole thing looked like fairy tale.

It fit Harry perfectly.

He parked right out front, in the circle driveway, giving Louis’ hand a small squeeze before getting out. Louis was undoing his seatbelt, right as his door opened, “You’re opening the door for me?” He laughed, sticking his legs out to stand.

“Of course,” Harry shrugged, “Only being a gentleman, for you.”

Louis gave Harry an impressed smile as he closed the door behind him. He immediately grabbed Harry’s hand, walking right next to him, as close as he could, up the front steps. “Your house is massive.”

“Mum’s choice. I’m probably going to move into a smaller space, maybe a flat here soon. I don’t need a house this big.”

“You’re going to sell it?” Louis asked as Harry unlocked the door.

“Mhm.”

“God, you’re so rich.”

“I was actually just going to donate the money I get from the house to charity. They need it more than I do, y’know? No one _needs_ all this money, so I want to do something productive.”

_Fucking charity. Of course, he was a donating it to charity, he was a saint._

“That’s very sweet of you, Harry. You have such a kind heart.” Louis couldn’t help the admiration on his voice, and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing Harry’s arm, hugging it as he pressed his cheek to his bicep, “You’re truly amazing.” 

“Not amazing,” Harry smiled back, “Just practical.”

Louis sat in the enormous living room, admiring the beautiful art all over the walls. This place was the size of a small hotel, and it was designed like it belonged in Greece. Crown moldings, artful fireplace, pristine furniture. The smell of food coming from the kitchen was making Louis’ stomach grumble. He had chose not to eat anything all day, so that he would devour the food, because he knew that Harry would love that.

He followed the smell, to find Harry humming over the stove, ingredients laid out beside him on the counter. He jumped when he felt Louis’ hand wrap around his waist, “You scared the shit out of me, Louis.”

“Sorry,” Louis rested his head on Harry’s back, “It smells wonderful in here, you didn’t tell me you were a chef.”

“I’m far from being a chef, spaghetti isn’t hard to make,” Harry laughed, and Louis could feel the shake from under his cheek. There was the warmth that coated his body. And it wasn’t hot, as in lust or desire, it was just warm. And tingly. And it felt amazing.

“When will it be done? ‘Cause my stomach is practically eating itself right now.” 

“Five minutes.” Harry gestured to the cabinets, you can grab the plates if you want? I can set the table too, but if you’re ready to eat then-“

“I can grab them, Harry, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.” Louis raised his brows, unwillingly removing his arms from around Harry to saunter over to the cabinet. “These plates probably cost more than my flat.” Louis whispered, running his fingers over the smooth porcelain. 

“I heard that.” Harry called over his shoulder, “Trust me, they’re not that expensive.”

Louis grabbed the plates, setting them on the kitchen table, hiding his smile over the vase of flowers centered. They were fresh, and Harry had probably bought them today, and that thought was just so incredibly sweet. Harry walked over with the bowl, pasta brimming over the edges, steam pouring off in a delicious scent. He gave Louis a generous scoop, and Louis knew it was going to be more than enough, but he was about to eat every fucking last bit of it.

“You better like this, because there’s way to much for just me to eat.”

“Why’d you make so much?” Louis asked, shoveling a fork full of noodles into his mouth.

“I can’t measure pasta to save my life.”

They sat in silence while Louis swallowed his bite, “This is amazing, I have to take some home with me.”

Harry didn’t answer, idly playing with a meatball, scooting it around with his fork. But there was this undeniable smile on his lips, with so much emotion behind it. 

“Why’re you smiling so much over there?” 

“It’s just,” Harry dropped his fork, “I’ve missed having someone to cook for. It’s just me here, y’know? It’s really lonely sometimes.” Harry answered, his eyes never looking up. 

Louis bit his lip, pretending his heart didn’t just sink. “You can cook for me anytime you want, baby.” 

The words made Harry’s face light up, light up like the fucking sun. His eyes finally met Louis, and it drug Louis’ breath right from his lungs. And if it were quiet enough, Harry would’ve caught the small gasp that escaped from his lips with the way Harry’s eyes were locked. And God, he was just so fucking beautiful. 

“I might take you up on that offer.”

“This house,” Louis paused, “It’s not as nice when it’s empty, is it?” 

Harry nodded, picking up the lone meatball and nibbling on the edge. It was clear that he wasn’t super hungry, but Louis was going at his plate, and he might explode from how fast he was eating. “Exactly, it’s empty, and it has reminders of them all over the place.”

Louis tried, but failed at sounding romantic with all the food in his mouth, “At least they’re still here, even if it’s in the form of pictures, it still counts, right?”

“I miss them, Louis.” 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Louis slid his hand over to Harry’s, and he was beginning to think it was resting on the table just for that purpose, “Don’t be upset, let’s talk about something else.”

“Like what?”

“Do you want to watch a movie with me after this? You’ve got a huge television and an extremely comfortable couch, let’s put them to use.” 

“I’d love to.” Harry looked down at Louis’ plate. laughing at the fact it was already empty, “You want some of mine?”

Louis thought for a second, taking a deep breath. His face was full of shame, but he walked his fingers to Harry’s plate, scooting it closer to him. He looked like a hog, but apparently Harry was loving every second of it. Because he was leaning back in his chair, staring with wide eyes as Louis crammed down his entire plate.

“…but, you’re so small.” Harry whispered to himself, looking a tad bit horrified but equally as mystified, “Where does it all go?”

“I wish I knew.” Louis didn’t bother to look up as he put Harry’s empty plate on top of his own, “I hope you didn’t want that, I didn’t even ask, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t really hungry, I ate earlier, which might’ve been a mistake, but I was starved.”

Louis leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his bulging stomach. “I’m stuffed.” He breathed, and he was very, very close to exploding because he probably ate a tad bit more than he should’ve, but it was just so damn good, “What movies do you have?”

“Probably anything you can think to name, actually.” 

“Hm,” Louis looked up, pursing his lips as he thought, “The Hangover?” 

“Yeah,” Harry smiled, standing to take their plates to the sink and clearing the table. Louis wanted to help, he really did, but he was too full to even move right now. “Of course, I love that movie.” 

 

****

 

As fucking stupid as it was, Louis was sitting on Harry’s couch and _cuddling_ with him. Harry was leaned on his shoulder, with Louis' arm wrapped around his waist, cheek resting on a bed of chocolate brown curls. All the lights were off, and the only sound came from the television, and then the laughs that came from them both during the movie. It was so relaxing, and Louis was so comfortable. He didn’t want to think of what he planned to do in just a matter of days, so he pushed the thoughts away. 

Right now, it just didn’t matter. 

He wasn’t allowing himself to feel these things, because the truth was, he didn’t have a choice. He had absolutely no say in the matter. Because as much as he didn’t want to, his heart was still going to race whenever he saw Harry, his stomach was still going to do wild flips. He was still going to call him every night, and he was still going to slowly fall in love with the sound of his voice and the words that fell from his lips. And he had to just admit it, Harry had an affect on him that he had never experienced before. He wasn’t sappy, and he didn’t believe in all those idiotic love stories, but for now, he felt like he was living in one.

He’s only seen Harry three times, and the first time didn’t even count because it was over within minutes. But he thought about him all the time, and he couldn’t simply ignore that. Because Louis’ mind was always focused on what was most important to him, just as any other human being, and that thing happened to be Harry Styles. The more days that passed, the less interested he was in the money, and the more interested he was in how Harry’s day was going so far.

He found himself looking forward to speaking to him, and the excitement in Harry’s voice showed that he was excited, too. 

Harry raising his head caused Louis to jump, and he exhaled a sharp breathe. Harry looked at him with a concerned face, “Why is your heart beating so fast?” 

_Because when I'm thinking about you, it always does that, no big deal._

“My body working to digest all that food, they need all hands on deck, apparently.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re smiling like a fool.”

Louis' face blushed a bright red, and all the heat in his body flooded to his cheeks, he looked away, unable to meet Harry’s eyes, “You,” He blinked, “I was thinking about you.” 

“What about me?” Harry moved his face closer, and his minty breath was fanning over Louis’ face, making it suddenly hard to even breathe. 

“Just, uh, I, uh.” Louis stuttered, “I can’t think straight right now.” And it’s because Harry’s lips are so, so close. His mind is mush again, and he’s aching to close that space. But he knows as soon as he does, he’s a goner. 

“Why?” Harry’s voice was a whisper, and his eyes dropped to Louis’ lips, flicking his tongue over his own at the sight. Harry wanted Louis to kiss him so badly, and he was making it so painfully obvious. And Louis was fighting with himself, trying his hardest to keep himself from moving in closer, and his entire body hurt from the resistance. 

“I want to kiss you, I _really_ want to kiss you.” Louis breathed back, Harry automatically stiffening, “Then kiss me, what’re you waiting for, baby?” 

And all the control Louis had vanished, and his lips were on Harry’s in an instant. It was like fucking fire. Searing, white hot, over every single inch of his skin. He was ignited, his mind in pure chaos, and he was already breathless. It was messy, absolutely sloppy, because Harry moved his body forward, pressing Louis against the back the couch. Their lips moved, melded together, and it was like magic. It _was_ magic. Because there was no way this was real, when it felt this way. Every nerve was vibrating, shaking with such intensity.

And Harry’s hand was around Louis’ neck, pulling him in closer.

The hot breath that slipped from their lips were unsteady, and it was a rush. The sparks flew all around them, and Louis’ head was so light it was making him dizzy. Every thing was moving too fast, and he was leaning back, and Harry was hovering over him. Their hands were searching each other’s body, feverishly, desperate. Gentle fingers, and even gentler touches as the top button of Louis' shirt popped open.

His hands flew to Harry’s, “Are you sure?”

“Shut up,” He replied against Louis’ lips, “I really fucking want to.”

Louis moaned at the words, his breath coming out incredibly faster, and his shirt was removed in seconds. Harry’s hands traveled down his stomach, wrapping around his ribs as he pulled Louis closer, pressing them together. His hands were trembling, and his lips were a quivering mess, because everything was just overwhelming. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, and his stomach was tight. It was all in a furious daze, and time wasn’t a concept anymore. His fingers worked Harry’s buttons opened, the silky material sliding off his shoulders, exposing the bare skin hidden underneath. 

Harry’s lips moved to Louis’ neck traveling under his jawline, sucking at the skin. Their bodies were moving, grinding against each other, and Louis' throat was so dry it almost hurt, “Fuck, Harry.”

He must’ve liked that, because he kissed harder, and his lips were moving to Louis’ collar bones. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking up against Harry, feeling the pressure in his chest, in his stomach, all his muscles going taut as he felt Harry’s bare chest pressed to his own. Harry was moving further down, lips ghosting over his stomach, then to his hips.

“Fuck, baby, please,” Louis begged, “Don’t rush into this, please feel comfortable, okay baby?”

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I saw you, trust me.” Harry replied, undoing the button on Louis' pants, popping them open. “Okay, because that was our first kiss, and that escalated extremely quickly, y’know?” Louis' breaths were coming out in thick gasps, his head falling back as the wet hot of Harry’s lips were kissing trails over the skin, just over his boxers, “I don’t want to take things too fast, mmm.” Louis’ voice faltered to a moan as the fabric was removed, his hard cock flinging to rest on his stomach. 

“It’s just a blow job, Louis, it’s okay.” 

And all the air was stolen from his lungs in a second, tight lips wrapping around the head of his cock, throbbing as all the blood rushed. His hips bucked up further, hitting the back of Harry’s throat. His head dug into the couch, his mouth falling open, desperate for more air, “But, fuck,” Louis gasped, “it’s just that, that, oh _god_.”

Harry ignored him, hallowing his cheeks as he sucked harder, and Louis' stomach twisted painfully tight, because this was fucking amazing. “ _Yeah,_ ” Louis moaned, airy and weak, his eyes rolling back as he clenched them closed. His hands flew to Harry’s hair, and dug at the roots, twisting the soft curls between his fingers.

His legs were shaking, his toes curling under, because Harry’s tongue was flicking over the tip, and he was taking Louis in so, so fucking deep. His mouth was hot, his lips like a vice, pulling every bit of pleasure from all points in Louis’ body. “So good, baby, that feels so fucking good.” 

Harry popped his mouth off, licking up his length, before wrapping around him again, bobbing his head in a rhythmic, steady tempo. And Louis was about to fucking pass out. But they were moving so quickly. A long first date at a diner, then eight nights of talking to each other for hours on the phone, then coming to his house. Harry cooking him a delicious dinner, and then their first kiss, his lips moving almost directly to Louis’ core. 

“I am,” Louis whispered, his fingers tightening as his orgasm crept up, “All yours, Harry, _fuck_.”

With one more hallowed suck, Louis shot thick, bitter liquid down the back of Harry’s throat. It came out is spurts, his muscles clenching, a variety of curse words falling from his swollen lips. Harry continued to suck in, till Louis was completely dry, before popping his lips off the top. He ran the tip of his index over the edge of his mouth, removing a tiny bit of come from the corner. He kept his eyes locked with Louis’, his tongue sliding out to lick the remainder.

“Damn Harry, you are so fucking hot.” 

“Thank you,” Harry replied, his voice innocent. Louis leaned down, pressing his lips to Harry’s, ignoring the salty taste still lingering there. The kiss was short, it was sweet, and it was gentle. And his body was weak, almost numb because all of his energy was pulled away. 

The movie played in the background, and it was already getting dark out, but they stayed intertwined in each other’s arms. Every thing felt so real, so powerful, so what was the sense of pretending they weren’t there, of running away from them? There wasn’t, so instead, Louis embraced it. Laying here, still trying to calm his breathing, he was so content. And it didn’t take any time at all, in fact, it was so fast it was unbelievable.

And Harry was full of bad jokes and he got excited over the simplest of things, but Louis was falling for him. Hopelessly, he was spiraling, deeper and deeper with every smile, every laugh.

He was falling in love with Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

Daggers can pierce the skin with little to no resistance. Cutting through each layer, each muscle like butter. It was always so easy, to just pull it from the holder, pressing the tip, easing it in. It didn't mean it was necessarily fun, or enjoyable, but it was worth it. Because with every life that Louis had under his belt, the more money filled his account, and the happier he became. And he knew he was bordering a fucking psychopath, but he couldn't bother to care, not one single bit. It was just too gratifying. He'd always known his mind was twisted and distorted beyond repair, and he was an entitled asshole, and that he was one of the worst people to ever walk this earth.

Oh well.

As soon as the serrated blade dug into the core muscles, that inevitable cry rang out through the empty house, echoing through the halls, and what a pity that no one was around to hear it. Poor soul, yet another whose life didn't matter, and to Louis, it was his for the taking. Though he knew it wasn't, and that it was extremely wrong, his thoughts justified it somehow. But that was something he never quite understood to it's full extent. Either way, it already happened, and there truly was no arguing it, because if Louis wanted you dead, then the countdown was already beginning, and you were going to die. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Hot, pulsating blood poured over his hands, over his wrist in a stream, flowing. It was that familiar copper smell that made his nose turn up and his stomach churn, the gurgling sound coming from the deepest part of the throat. A bit of a struggle, a small choking sound, then a couple spasms and it was all over. That was the end. He jerked the knife out in one quick movement, shoving his shoulder to knock the body away, letting it slam roughly to the floor. The blood was still coming, and Louis knew cleaning would be useless if he didn't allow it to drain a considerable amount. He wiped the blade again, removing any bit of a mess, before sliding it back into the holder attached to his hip.

He pulled his phone out as he walked towards the computer, pressing Liam's contact to call. "Louis, how's everything going so far?"

"I'm logging into the account right now." Louis smiled through the phone, his ears pricking to hear any sudden movements that could come from the interior or exterior of the house. When it was silent, he continued typing. 

Getting to know each victim was essential in the success, and if he didn't know enough to guess a password, then it was a waste of time. But, Louis has yet to kill without taking the reward. So, he typed in his first guess, biting the inside of his cheek when the red words popped up, saying the password or username was incorrect. He thought a bit deeper, and on whim, he typed in his next guess, bursting out in laughter when it went through.

"What're you laughing about?" Liam asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice.

"Dude's password was " _callmebigpapa1_." He muffled his laughs, covering his mouth with his other hand, "You're kidding me." Liam joined in, full on laugh sounding through the line, "That's hilarious."

"I'm going to text you all the information. You know the deal, sent it to the decoy account, we'll split it up when it's safe to deposit, yeah?"

"Always," Liam shuffled on the other end, "Now clean up and get out of there before the police show up. Be careful."

"Yeah, yeah." Louis rolled his eyes, ending the phone call. He looked back, letting out an annoyed sigh when he saw the blood still coming out in major quantities, like, can't he just fucking bleed out already? Fucking Christ. 

He started wiping down any trace of finger prints, making sure that zero evidence was on the scene, paying close attention to each fiber in the carpet, any footprints, making sure there was none of his skin under the victim's nails. The place was finally clear, after what felt like fucking forever, Louis did a double check, before leaving out the front door. His phone vibrated in his pocket, a text from Liam saying the account was cleared, and he would receive his commission within a few days, as usual. 

A name popped up on the screen, and Louis slid to answer the call, "Hey baby, what're you up to?"

"Not much, are you busy?" Harry asked, his voice a dead giveaway of that beautiful smile he always had.

Louis licked his index, rubbing away the red droplets fading against the skin of his hand and wrist. "Not anymore, what did you want to do?"

"I'm at the little bar right down the road from my house, was just wondering if you wanted to join in? The one that you have to pass whenever you pick me up, you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah," Louis sighed, "And you know how I feel about you going to bars by yourself, Harry. There's creeps, and you're too kind, they'll take advantage of you."

"I'm sure I can handle it." That annoyed tone was becoming more apparent, but Louis couldn't help it, he hated when Harry went out around other men who he knew would do whatever they could to get Harry to come home with them. And Harry had basically no backbone, and he was too shy to tell any of them to just fuck off. Which, sometimes, was exactly what they needed to hear before they got the fucking hint.

"Yeah, I'll be there in five, okay?"

"Okay." Harry answered, Louis hanging up the phone as he got into his car.

Of course, this was his little secret. He was killing on the side, and Harry had absolutely no clue. In all reality, Harry didn't know the real Louis, he only saw what Louis let him see. It was a definite fact, that if Harry truly knew him, Harry would run so fast in the other direction that he'd leave a cloud of dust behind him. So, being the disgusting piece of shit Louis was, he hid it, so that he could keep Harry around. Because he really liked Harry, and wasn't super willing to lose him.

The small bar came into view, and it was already packed. It was eight at night on a fucking Tuesday, there shouldn't be this many people here, it was fucking ridiculous, and also extremely annoying. He slammed the car door shut as he walked in, his eyes scanning for the familiar disarray of curls that set Harry apart from everyone else. Of course, _of fucking course,_ Harry was sitting on his stool, looking more than uncomfortable as some random guy stood way too close. And Louis' blood started boiling.

"Sorry mate, he's taken, move along, yeah?" Louis gave the man a small smile, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist, feeling him relax with the contact. 

"By you?" The man laughed, giving Louis an unimpressed once over, "You're like, three feet tall pal, can you even reach him?" 

Louis pressed his lips together into a thin line, smiling through the anger threatening to spill over any second. He was chewing the inside of his cheek so hard he was scared he was going to chew a hole through the damn thing. But who the fuck did this guy think he was?

"Very original," Louis shook his head, tongue gliding over the front of his teeth, disconnecting with a loud click, "But I'll ask you again, move along, okay?" 

"How about _you_ move along, let the cutie speak for himself." The man's eyes flashed to Harry, and Louis fucking snapped. His hand flew to his collar, dragging him roughly out of hearing distance. Though the bloke was clearly bigger, he was in shock at Louis' sudden reaction, and towed behind him silently, every eye in the bar focused on them.

"Not so nicely this time, I said to move the fuck along, now get your ass away from me, and away from him, got it? I'm _not_ going to ask you again." The man looked back, both of them standing their ground as they stared. "And what exactly are you planning to do if I don't?" He asked.

Louis' voice dropped, so deathly low, stinging and cold. It was so dark, so menacing it sent chills up the man's spine. And all he could do was stare with wide eyes, "You don't want me to answer that question, _motherfucker._ " He spat, the man having no choice but to shrink, his hands shaking as he cowered back. 

A gentle hand laid over Louis' shoulder, warm breath trickling into his ears, relaxing him almost on cue, "It's alright, Louis. You want to get out of here, go back to yours?" 

Louis shoved the man away, his nose wrinkling in disgust. The man stumbled, falling back slightly, his breath uneven as he raced to the door. It wasn't often that Louis opted to terrify the living fuck out of some random person, but this moment called for it. After countless bodies fell to Louis' feet, their blood covering his hands, there was something naturally terrifying about him. He was _merciless, relentless, heartless,_ and you could sense it very clearly in his voice when he wanted you to.

Except when it came to Harry, because then he was a bubble of laughing and blushing, and gentle touches. 

He was just, different. That was the best way to put it.

The blood drained slowly from his face as Harry walked next to him towards his car, the thumping of his heart causing his veins to rush, his teeth unclenching slightly as his jaw relaxed more. Harry had this thing about him, that oozed calm, and tranquil, and you couldn't be mad around him. He had this gentle way, and he was so soft and sweet and so perfectly adorable that it poured off of him in thick waves. And, obviously, Louis fell into that ambiance so fast, because Harry drew him in. 

"Louis," Harry said when they were finally in the car, putting his seatbelt on even though they were going just down the road.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I just hate that-"

"You didn't let me finish," Harry looked over at him, "That was so, so fucking hot, Louis."

Louis choked on thin air, his eyes going wide, "That was hot to you?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. You look so good when you're mad, and your voice gives me chills." 

Louis blinked back shock, shaking his head, "Well, I didn't know you were into that, or I would've used it way more often, that's for sure."

"I didn't know I was into that either," Harry shrugged, popping his seatbelt off as soon as they pulled in the driveway, "Hurry up, let's go." 

Louis didn't think twice, climbing out of the car and following directly behind Harry. He couldn't bother to wait, because Harry's lips were on his neck as soon as they got to the door, hot breath scanning over his skin. It made getting the key into the lock very difficult, his hands shaky, his vision getting blurry. 

Finally the lock clicked, and Louis pushed the door open, slamming it loudly behind them. Harry's lips were on his in an instant, looping his fingers around the top of Louis' jeans. Harry was walking himself backwards, pulling Louis towards the wall. As soon as Harry's back hit, he stopped walking, the back of his head thudding against it. "Talk to me." He breathed.

"What do you want me to stay?"

"Doesn't matter, just talk to me in that chilling voice of yours, Louis. Just- just talk to me." 

"Okay." Louis raised Harry's hands, locking his wrists together just above his head, "Do you like when I sound mean, mad, talk to you like I'm fucking dangerous?" Louis growled, speaking through clenched teeth.

"Mhm," Harry hummed, "I do."

"Because people need to know their boundaries, and I'd never let them hurt you, or even touch you. Fucking wastes of space." Louis replied, in the voice he used to send straight fear into their hearts, but Harry found it very, very hot. Because as Louis was talking, he was already a moaning, whimpering mess. 

"They can't touch me, only you can, it's only you, Louis." 

And Louis had to fight the urge to let his voice go soft, because he didn't have the anger he needed to keep that voice up, and his heart was swelling. Because Harry was basically saying "I'm yours," and Louis really wanted to tell him "I'm yours, too."

But he kept talking in that menacing tone, even if it was faltering a bit. "You're so beautiful, all mine, so perfect." Louis ran his lips over Harry's as he spoke, not enough pressure to call it a kiss, but enough to feel Harry's breathing speed. "You're so gentle, so pure. And you like to know that I can be _dangerous._ That I can make a man cower away with just my words, and strike fear, so easily. You like that, don't you, baby?"

"So much," Harry's voice was a whisper, barely audible, "So, so much." 

Louis released Harry's wrists, using his hands to pin Harry's hips against the wall, instead. "Rough, and gentle. Soft, and hard. You just want someone to protect you, who can also love you like this," Louis eased his grip, running his fingers over Harry's cheek, the skin barely touching, "Like you're delicate. My soft, delicate baby." 

Harry's eyes were fluttering, and Louis' tone was losing it's grit, and he was losing himself in a beautiful green, "Keep talking to me, please."

"You're so precious to me," Louis' voice was completely off, taking to Harry like they were standing at the alter, saying their vows. It was sincere, it was sweet. "These past couple months, you're all I think about, you consume me."

Has it been months, already? _Actually, it's been three months and six days, to be exact, since they'd met._

"Louis.." Harry breathed, and a shock ran up Louis back, the rasp in his voice returning in an instant.

"Do you want it rough?" He dug his nails into the skin of Harry's hips, "Or soft?"

"Rough, fucking _rough._ "

And Louis crashed his lips down, jerking Harry forward. Their breaths were in sync, panting, the air already sweltering. He walked Harry over to the couch, pushing him to sit on the arm, hands pushing the inner part of Harry's thighs, persuading them open so he could stand between. Harry's legs shot wide, his foot hooking around Louis' calf, drawing him in closer. It was just as sloppy as their first kiss, the heat knocking away another other feeling, leaving them with pure lust. And it was obvious, with the way their hands were touching every single inch they could, and lips were mushed against each other in desperation.

To feel each other, to be closer, to be completely enveloped. 

Clothes were being ripped off in a rush, tears in the fabric of expensive materials, pooling to the floor. Breathing was the only sound between them, Louis' lips kissing a trail down Harry chest as he slid Harry's jeans off, throwing them across the room. His lips stopped right at the line of his boxers, looping his fingers around the band, sliding them down slow, torturously slow. It was almost taunting. Harry used his feet to shimmy them off completely, flinging them away with a soft giggle. 

Harry was hard, already so fucking solid, almost throbbing. And the situation wasn't much different for Louis, either. He knew Harry was expecting his lips to wrap around the head of his cock, but he only kissed around the base, his tongue flattening over Harry's balls, massaging them. He was going crazy, his legs already shaking uncontrollably. Louis grabbed Harry in his hand, steady strokes along the length as he continued to work his tongue, inching ever so slightly downward.

He was teasing right over the puckered entrance, flicking his tongue just over the rim, not pushing in any deeper. Harry scooted his hips forward, desperate for Louis' tongue to enter him, but Louis wasn't letting him off the easy. He slowed his strokes, earning a disgruntled moan, "Okay, okay, I won't scoot." Harry pouted sounding like a grumpy child who didn't get his way.

Louis quickened to mimic his earlier speed, his tongue pushing it slightly, the tip bending as it swirled inside. He could feel Harry clenching around him, needing to feel more of him, wanting to be filled. Saliva oozed from his lips, drenching the hole, soaking it as he delved his tongue deeper. "Fuck, holy fuck, L-Louis." Harry whimpered, the beautiful sound vibrating through him.

His mouth was watering at the taste of Harry, feeling his walls close around his tongue, and boy, he was fucking riding this out. 

When Louis was satisfied that Harry was wet enough, he slid in one finger; then two, pumping them in and out. He watched as Harry stretched. the soft pink rim expanding as he took him in. He was so fucking tight, and Louis knew that without a little more work, it was probably going to hurt Harry rather than pleasure him. And he didn't want that, he didn't want to hurt him.

He _couldn't_ hurt him.

He eased the third finger in, taking turns as he scissored them, Harry sucking a harsh breath through his teeth, "I know, baby," Louis spoke, gently as he could possibly speak, "I just want to make sure you're stretched enough, I don't want it to hurt."

Harry nodded eagerly, feeling Louis' fingers as the pushed deeper, the heat of Harry's inside getting even hotter. He swapped, from three fingers, back to two, then back to three again. Making sure they were wet, continuing until Harry's breaths turned into moans. And when Louis was sure it didn't hurt anymore, he stood up, eyes meeting Harry's.

"Ready?"

"Fuck yes." Harry gripped the back of Louis' neck with one hand, using his other to guide Louis' cock into him. It slid in, a little resistance, but not enough to where Harry was burning with the stretch. His eyes blinked closed, fluttering, his mouth falling open as Louis filled him, "It's amazing, go as fast as you want, I'm so fucking ready."

Louis rocked his hips, starting slow. But the searing heat, and the tight of Harry's ass felt _too_ good, and he quickened. Harry's legs wrapped around Louis' waist, ushering him to go deeper, to penetrate with every inch Louis had. So, that's exactly what he did.

Harry's head bounced with the speed of the thrusts, and he wasn't whimpering anymore, he was almost _screaming_ with such intense pleasure. His body was glistening with a sheen layer of sweat, his hair matting to his forehead. And Louis just continued to go faster and faster, deeper and deeper. Because his stomach was twisting and turning and clenching, and Louis was losing his breath. His hands ran up Harry's back, gentle cascading over his muscles as his back arched, pleasure ricocheting though him in thick, heavy waves.

Harry's skin was nearly drenched, and Louis' hips were starting to ache because with each thrust, it was full of such power. Louis pressed his lips to Harry's, his hand still stroking, knowing what he was feeling was nothing short of ecstasy. He was in pure bliss. And when Harry opened his eyes after Louis pulled away, he could feel his heart falter in the beats. The vivid green was impossibly bright, staring into Louis' blue ones. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion around them. He kept their eyes locked, feeling Harry's chest, shaking as he let out a breath, and he was getting so close. 

"Keep looking at me baby, let me see your beautiful eyes." Louis whispered against Harry's lips, and he was trying with all his might to listen to Louis, but his eyes were rolling back, his orgasm brimming.

And Louis was starting to feel it to, rocking even faster, his fingers twisting into Harry's hair, pulling at the roots. "Louis, I'm-"

"I know, I can tell, you're hovering just on the edge. You're feeling those tingles, spreading over you, lighting your every inch on fire. Your voice is cracking, it's wobbling and you're not sure how much longer you can hold on."

" _Fuck, oh, fuck._ Keep going, keep talking. I love your voice."

He used his other hand to push the sweaty hair away from Harry's eyes, his vision never moving, solely focused on that stunning, electrifying green. "Your toes are curling, your back is flexing, because every ounce of blood is rushing to your core," Louis talked Harry through his orgasm, trying to keep his voice even, though his own climax was creeping up on him, too. "You're having trouble getting the breaths out, but your voice is light as airy, and its so beautiful Harry, everything about you is so beautiful." 

Harry's head lolled to the side, unable to contain it any longer, releasing the hot come all over Louis' hand, then again as it coated his stomach. That was all it took, watching Harry come undone, before Louis let his climax take over.

His body was an absolute flurry, aching with the heat, his muscles painfully contracting in the center of his stomach. His head fell to Harry's shoulder, releasing with one last, slow, deep thrust. 

And then they were falling back on the couch, fumbling over each other. It was dark, but Louis' eyes had already adjusted, seeing that Harry's deep, pink lips were pulled into a smile. This was the most amazing sex Louis had ever had by far. And it wasn't the movements or the act, really. It was the fact that it was with Harry, and it made everything so much more intense. 

Because he was making love with Harry, and it was perfect, a visual he would never get out of his mind. 

Harry's fingers played idly on Louis' back, swirling patterns as Louis rested his head on Harry's chest. He was rising and falling with every breath Harry took, listening to the steady drum of his heart, slowing down, to where it was just a soft murmur.

"Harry," Louis said, his voice light in the silence of the dark room, "This might be on a whim but," 

"But?" Harry prodded, running nails down Louis' spine, his skin prickling behind the touch.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

And then Harry's heart started beating impossibly fast again, "You're.. you're being serious?" 

"Yeah," Louis took a deep breath, "I'm falling in love with you."

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis despite the searing heat in the room. His voice was broken, and cracking all over the place, full of emotion. But Harry finally responded, with a trembling lip, "I'm falling in love with you too, Louis."

 

****

 

They ended up falling asleep on Louis' couch, completely naked. 

 

When they woke up, the sun was shining through the windows, in a golden glow, surrounding them in a warm light. Louis was awake, still laying on Harry's chest, but he didn't want to move. Really, he just wanted to lay here forever. Before Harry, love didn't exist, it wasn't real. But come to find out, love was just an abstract thought, with no true definition, differing between each person.

And love had it's own unique definition to Louis.

Love was the way Harry breathed, soft, but deep into his belly. It was the steady flutter of his heart as he dreamt. It was the way Harry's lashes covered his cheeks, fanning out, leaving a delicate shadow. It was how gentle Harry was, how when he spoke, his words inflicted nothing but pure happiness and joy. And it was the fact that Harry was hurt when they met, but he was so willing to open his heart, Louis knowing it had to be torn to shreds. And Harry was the most pure, heavy hearted person there ever was. He thought his jokes were funny, even though he got them off a candy wrapper, probably. He thought birds were terrifying. He thought the sky was the most interesting thing to watch. And _love,_ was that Louis found himself molding into the person Harry was.

Stirring from underneath him caused him to break from his thoughts, "You awake?" Harry asked, his voice dry and deep with sleep.

"Yes, baby, I am. Did you sleep well?" Louis asked, propping up on his elbow, "Yeah." Harry smiled, looking even more radiant in the light of the morning sun, "Only 'cause you were here."

"Y'know, we should probably get up before we drown in this cheesy romance novel we're slowly becoming," Louis joked, standing to stretch his back, hissing in a breath at the large cracking sound that came from _somewhere._

"What're your plans today?" 

"Probably going to just sit here and relax today, what about you?"

"I uh, I have to visit someone, actually." Harry sat up, looking at his fingers.

"Who?"

"It's weird."

"It's not, I'm willing to bet."

Harry took a deep breath, "I'm going to visit my mum, and my sister today. I try to visit them as often as I can." And Louis could feel his heart shriveling, because it must be incredibly painful to visit your loved ones, after they're buried six feet under.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have prodded."

"Would you- would you want to come? Maybe? I mean, only if you want. Don't feel like you have to say yes, I mean, I-"

"I'd love to." Louis walked to Harry, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry's lips, "If you're ready for me to meet them, then so am I."

 

***

 

The air was cool, whipping around their hair, leaving a soft pink tinge on their cheeks. The field was wide, concrete grave stones lining it in numerous rows. Harry was already holding back tears, just walking to where his mum and sister were in their final resting place. Louis didn't know how many times Harry had come here, but it was the last time he'd ever come alone. He held Harry's hand, always sending reassuring a squeeze when he would feel Harry tense up. Louis never had a family he really loved, growing up with hypocritical assholes who hated each other, he despised their existence. So, he didn't know how to help Harry cope, and it only been mere months since they had passed, but it weighed on him like it just happened yesterday.

Then they were standing in front of two stones, " _Anne,_ " on one, " _Gemma_ " on the other.

Harry sat down cross legged without a word, the silence so overwhelmingly strong. Louis sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Harry wasn't saying a word, but tears were falling helplessly down his cheeks, his eyes locked on the spot he knew his mother was buried. "It's, uh," Louis coughed awkwardly.

"It's nice to meet you." 

Harry looked over confused, Louis giving him a reassuring squeeze of his hand before continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't find Harry sooner, and I couldn't meet you in person. But, better late than never right?" 

An undeniable smile spread over Harry's face, and even a small laugh.

"I think your son is a bit of a fool, and he's kind of weird. But, he's also one of the most amazing people I've ever met. He's caring, he's sweet, and so incredibly generous. He pretends to be a confident flirt, but he blushes, like, _a lot._ I met him a couple months ago, and I still remember the day like it just happened, because it's one of my favorite memories."

Harry was crying harder now, his head bowing, but that smile never leaving. "You've done such an amazing job with him, I hope you know. You should be so proud of your son, and your brother," Louis flicked his eyes over to Gemma's stone. "I think you have raised the perfect, goofy little boy, and now he's the kind of person everyone wishes they could be. Though, he's terrified of birds, and that's very strange."

"I'm not terrified." Harry argued, "He's lying, I'm only partially scared of them."

"I'm not lying, he honestly told me, he was terrified. He watches them like they're going to sneak up on him." 

Harry shoved Louis over, falling to his side in the damp grass, light laughs filling the air between them, "Shut up, they carry diseases."

"I know," Louis scrunched his nose up, "I'm not very fond of birds either, come to think of it."

And stories filled the air, about Harry growing up. About his family and all their hilarious vacations and all their ridiculous arguments. Harry fell backwards, engulfed in laughter over half the time, his face so bright it was drowning out any sense of sadness he had remaining in him. They joked about how odd of a child Harry was, and how much he really liked meatballs, and how even then, he slept with fan on. They had to be there for hours, just talking about each other, seeing how hard they could make the other laugh.

And it was simply beautiful, because Harry wasn't sad anymore, and he was delving into those memories full force, the ones he'd probably shoved to the back of his head. 

The sun was setting, and it was getting cold but none of them noticed. And Louis finally decided something. This was the life he wanted, and this was the life that was being offered to him right now. He no longer felt the desire to have money, to be rich, because he was so happy. And he could be living in a box on the side of the road with not a cent to his name, but as long as Harry was there, he didn't care.

He was ready to start over, start fresh and give Harry the truth he deserves to have. What relationship was founded on lies and deceit? So, Louis was going to wipe the slate clean, pretend his past never happened, and think about the future, one that was so bright ahead of him. And though he probably didn't deserve happiness, and he _definitely_ didn't deserve Harry, he wanted it. He needed it. 

So he accepted it, accepted that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with Harry. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Do’ya ever miss Niall, mate?” Liam asked, taking a small swig of the light brown liquor. Honestly, Louis could’ve skipped out on the bar today, but Harry was busy, and it’s not like he had anything better to do. He pressed his lips together in a thin, focused line, spinning the glass around in his hand, barely any drinks taken from it. “I do.”

“You know, I can’t say that I didn’t see it coming, there were signs all over the place.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Liam took a deep breath, a quick glance in Louis’ direction before continuing. “The killings were getting more sparse. He didn’t come around as often. It was like there was this wall between him and us, and there was this resistance, like he was hiding something. And you could see he wasn’t comfortable with the person he was anymore. He was distant,” Liam bit the inside of his cheek, “He wasn’t happy with himself anymore.”

“Why,” Louis took a deep breath, turning his body towards Liam, “Why do I feel like there’s a hidden connotation behind that explanation, Liam?”

“Who’re you in love with, Louis?”

Louis’ eyes widened, shaking his head slightly at the brash words, “What are you talking about?”

“Before Niall even told me this lifestyle wasn’t for him anymore, I could tell. It was so obvious. He fell for someone, and he wanted to _change for them_ and _be a better person for them._ I’ve been seeing some eery parallels with you both, in the way you act, the way you talk.”

“You’ve barely talked to me.”

Liam’s lips pulled into the smallest smile, “Exactly.”

Louis puffed his cheeks, blowing a thick breath out. It wasn’t that Liam was wrong, it was just that the fact that he caught on was so strange. Louis had barely spoken to Liam, especially in these past couple weeks were he hadn’t even blinked an eye in anyone else’s direction. Apparently, whatever Louis was doing, was making it more than obvious. And it was true, he was exactly where Niall was in the previous months. Louis hated himself, he really did. He wanted to change, but he knew that falling helplessly in love wasn’t going to magically wipe the slate clean. It didn’t matter what he did, what he said, he’d never be forgiven for the life he’d lived.

“His name is Harry.”

“As in, _Styles? Harry Styles?_ ”

Louis' face got a bit hotter, which was all the confirmation Liam needed, “That hot ass billionaire? The one whose all over the media?”

“Enough,” Louis bit down on his bottom lip, jealousy rearing it’s ugly head.

“Mate, I hate to break it to you, but,” Liam coughed back a laugh, “He’s probably the image in a lot of people’s heads when they’re-“

“I said enough.”

“Okay, okay.” Liam held his hands up in defense. “Wow, so you’re dating Harry Styles, eh? I’m going to make an educated guess and say it was a kill gone wrong? Couldn’t bear to get the knife in?” 

“Something like that.” 

“Are you going to tell him?” 

Louis’ stomach twisted in a sick motion, his heart speeding up the beats in his chest. He tried not to think about it. He didn’t want Harry to know who he truly was. Or he’d be long, long gone. It was a bitch, to hide your past from the person you loved, but he had to do what he needed to do to keep Harry around. It was selfish, and wrong, as always, but thats just the type of person Louis is. Always looking out for himself, and only caring for his own happiness. Even if that involved lying through his teeth.

“No.”

“You don’t think he deserves to know?”

“It’s not that,” Louis clenched his teeth together briefly, “He wouldn’t stay, it’s too soon.”

“Not to pry into your business, but shouldn’t that be his choice to make? You can’t expect sunshine and rainbows, Louis, the past always has this way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”

“You don’t think I fucking know that, Liam? I think about that shit everyday. But he can’t leave, he can’t go, it would just- it would hurt too much.” 

“I know, mate. I’ll support you, as always, but I just want you to know what could happen. I knew it was only a matter of time before you were out, too. And hopefully that day comes for me as well, but it’s going to be hard for us. We’re bad people, Louis. Love doesn’t fix that, it doesn’t change that. And we’re always going to be stuck with that guilt.” 

“My hands feel so gentle on him, so careful. But those hands have taken so many lives, it almost feels disgusting to even touch him with those, y’know?” Louis took a gulp of his drink, nose scrunching with the burn. Because they were drinking at four in the fucking afternoon. It was like Louis was a frat boy in college, living on alcohol and barely any sleep. 

“I’m sorry, Louis. I hope the best for you, I really do.”

“I don’t deserve happiness.”

“Me either, me either.” Liam shook his head. And it was obvious that this was weighing on him too. That pivotal point always hits, and when it does, it hits you so fucking hard. For years, Louis was a relentless murderer, he didn’t care. He was always in it for the money, and nothing else mattered.

They never thought about when they actually grew up, and wanted to start a family. Because they were living in the moment, and the future was just a mere thought, going with the flow of wherever life took them. It didn’t quite hit that once this was over, and they were finished with the spree, that this was still going to be haunting them. It was a forbidden past that was going to linger, not always in sight, but always in mind. And Louis’ mind was already so demented and fucked up, he was genuinely surprised he hadn’t checked himself into psychiatric care by now.

They stayed and talked a little longer. And the odd thing was, that Liam was nearing the end of his game, too. He was going to be the only one left in the group, and as twisted as it sounds, killing is not as fun when you’re alone. And that makes no sense, but whatever. 

Neither of them had that money thirsty drive, Louis’ reason being quite a bit more obvious than Liam’s, but nonetheless. 

It was nearing eight when Louis told Liam he needed to hit the road, knowing Harry would be on his way over to the flat. Harry hadn’t stayed in his own house for weeks now, and he had pretty much moved in. But it’s not like Louis was complaining. Harry hated his house, hated how empty it was and how alone he felt. It was nearing two months since Louis had joined Harry at his mother and sister's graves, but they’d been numerous times since then. It was a moment they shared very personally, and it made Harry so incredibly happy, to have someone there.

And he smiled all the damn time, he was so _damn_ adorable. 

There was a small comfort in knowing that there were no hard feelings between Liam, Niall and himself. They had gone separate ways, but Louis only hoped they continued to talk. They were always going to be a huge part of each others lives, because there was an insane amount of trust there. If one of them wanted, they could pin all the murders on one person, and get off free. But they had to trust that they would never do that to each other.

And three serial killers were _very_ trustworthy people, that’s for sure.

When Louis pulled into his flat, he saw that Harry’s little Ford was parked outside, the hood popped open. He shut the engine off, stepping out to walk around, seeing Harry bent over the motor, “What’s going on, babe?”

“Fucking car, there’s something wrong with it. It won’t start up anymore.” Harry slammed the hood down, smudge of either dirt or grease wiped across his left cheek.

Louis raised his hand, licking his thumb to clean the mark from Harry’s face, “We’ll have it towed to a mechanic love, no big deal.”

“I have to meet with my family in Holmes Chapel tomorrow afternoon, it’s three hours away, almost three and a half.” Harry shook his head, biting his bottom lip in pure frustration.

“I’m not going anywhere tomorrow.” Louis wrapped a hand around Harry’s waist, ushering him towards the front door, “You can just take mine.” 

“You’re sure?” Harry’s brows shot up, walking next to Louis towards his flat.

He unlocked the door, allowing Harry to step in first, helping slide his jacket from his shoulders, “I know you’re going to see family you hadn’t seen in a long time, not since- y’know -so you can just take my car to make it. I’ll call a tow while you’re away, we’ll get it taken care of babe, no worries."

Harry’s smile could’ve lit up the whole room.

“You’re so good to me, Louis.”

Louis placed a small kiss to Harry’s lips, just gentle enough the feel the heat of his breath fan over his face, “That’s because I love you, you goofball.” 

“I love you, too.” Harry smiled, another kiss before he walked into the kitchen, “Want some tea? It’s a freezing mess out there, I hate the snow, hot cuppa sounded really good.” 

“Sure, I’ll take one.” 

Harry nodded, grabbed the kettle from the cabinet, filling it with water before setting it on the stove, turning the dial to heat the coils. It was a nice sight, to see Harry standing in the kitchen, looking like he’d been living here for years now. He seemed to feel so comfortable in the warm, small confines of Louis’ flat. It was very weird how Harry never bothered to ask about Louis’ occupation, and how he could afford to live without even the mention of a job. But he never brought it up, never even hinted at it.

“Be careful on your way over, roads are dangerous.”

“Okay, dad.” Harry rolled his eyes. Fuck, he was just so, so fucking cute.

“I prefer daddy, but whatever floats your boat.” 

“Okay, _daddy_.” Harry’s voice fell lower, teasing.

“Why’re you so adorable?” Louis asked, smiling as he shook his head. His eyes scanned Harry’s body, his heart drumming at how much he resembled an absolute masterpiece. He had more money than he knew what to do with, but his shirt was tattered, a hole on the bottom right seam. His hair was in messy waves, mixed in with spiral curls, framing his face. Which, in fact, was the most beautiful physical feature he had. He looked so innocent, like he wouldn’t step on a bug. He had wide eyes, and he always looked so full of thought.

All in all, he was so gorgeous, that the mere sight of him made Louis’ whole body warm, he was so perfect, Louis was scared to blink, thinking he’d disappear.

“Not quite what I was going for, but I’ll take it.” Harry joked, pulling the kettle from the stove.

The steam rose into the warm air as the water was poured into separate coffee mugs, ones that matched because Harry was essentially a child and _had_ to have a matching set. 

Louis watched as tea bags were dropped in, the brown swirling with the clear, the delicious smell filling his nose. He hadn’t noticed he was standing right next to Harry, but honestly, he gravitated towards him. He felt, _better_ when he was near Harry, he loved the warmth that seemed to pour off of him. He loved that familiar smell of cashmere and mint that only surrounded Harry. He wanted nothing more than to have this every single day. To come home to Harry, to know that they had nothing stopping them, and the thoughts that snuck up on him made him nauseous. 

“Can we talk about something?”

“Of course we can,” Harry answered, grabbing the milk from the fridge, pouring it into their mugs before screwing the cap back on. “What is it?”

“Join me on the couch.” Louis took the mug from Harry, giving him a nervous smile, gesturing towards the living room. Harry followed suit, bouncing along, unaware of how tense Louis’ body was.

“Okay,” Louis started, taking a seat, feeling the cushions dip as Harry took a place right next to him. His feet were curled under, shoulder leaning his entire weight on Louis. “Okay,” Harry mimicked, urging him to continue.

“If I told you, that- that I, well I didn’t have the best past, and I mean a terrible, terrible past, what would you say?”

“Depends on what you mean by terrible.” Harry shrugged, taking a sip of warm tea.

“It’s, it’s bad, Harry. For the past few years I did a lot of things I regret, that I can never _ever_ take back. I’m- I’m a very twisted, terrible person. I’m selfish, I’m, I’m the personification of malicious, of repulsive.”

Harry’s brows were pulled down now, that little wrinkle between them that always appeared when he wore that expression, “What did you do, Louis?”

Louis shook his head, fighting back the overwhelming feeling that flooded over him, his bottom lip trembling, “I can’t- can’t just say it out loud. You’ll never talk to me again, you’ll never want to see me again. And I’m not ready yet, Harry. I’m not ready for you to leave me, because you’re making me into a better person, I can just feel it. You’re making me _want_ to be better, even though I’ll never come back from what I did. You make me want to try, I can’t loose that.”

“You don’t know that I’ll leave.”

“Yes,” Louis shook his head, clenching his eyes closed, “Yes, I do, Harry.”

Harry thought, and the silence seemed to envelop the room for what felt like hours, days. Louis knew he was considering what Louis might say. But Harry could never guess this.

“Don’t tell me.”

“What?” Louis’ voice raised pitch in confusion.

“I don’t want to know.” Harry shrugged. “If you think that it will break what we have built between us, then I don’t want to know. If it’s meant to come out, meant for me to know, then I’ll find out. But you can’t say you didn’t try to tell me, because you are, but I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Why not? Harry, It’s-“

“Sh, stop, stop that.” Harry raised his index to Louis’ lips, “I said I don’t want to know. I love you, I do. And I fell in love with you for a reason. I think you’re sweet, and caring, and you’re so considerate. You’re loud and intimidating around other people, but you talk to me like if you raise your voice too loud I’ll shatter or something. You look at me like I’m the only thing in this universe. And nothing will change that, change the way I feel about you. If you’re willing to let your past be the past, then I am, too.”

“Are you sure about that?”

_I’m a killer, a murderer. I’ve killed more people than I can count, and I’ve stolen millions from them. I didn’t care that they had family, or friends, or a future, it didn’t matter to me. I was planning to kill you, but you made me fall in love with you, you little shit. You turned me into someone I’m not, or maybe you turned me into who I was supposed to be, I don’t know. But you deserve better, you deserve someone who wasn’t plotting to take your life. I’m no good for you, I belong in a cell, rotting away for what I’ve done._

“I’m sure.”

A deep breath filled Louis’ lungs, where they were almost burning. It was like a thousand pounds were lifted from his shoulder, but then a thousand more were added on. Because Harry was so perfect, it was like he was hand made for Louis. And Louis fucked his own life up many years ago, and he could be as happy as he wanted on the surface but his past would always be there. Louis only wished he’d met Harry a long time ago, and things could be, would be very different between them. And Louis kind of wanted to walk into traffic, because he ruined it. Not only for himself, but for Harry, because he was never going to have the full truth. Though he really did deserve to know.

“I love you, Harry. Where were you years ago?” 

“I was here, we just hadn’t been brought together yet, that’s all.” 

“Fate can be a bitch,” Louis laughed, “I wish I could’ve met you sooner.” 

“I do, too. I do, too babe. But, we have a future, if you want one with me, then it’s there.”

“I want one with you, Harry, of course I fucking want one with you.” Louis nudged Harry’s shoulder with his own. “You nut.”

They sat in the soft, quiet room, the only sounds coming from the empty mugs hitting the table. There were tons of unspoken words that stood stagnant in the air, both of them refusing the acknowledge it. And though Louis didn’t deserve it, it was almost as if his entire future was falling into place. He had met the person he knew he wanted to spend his days with. After fighting the feelings off like they were the black plague, he finally admitted it. And ever since then, it was downhill. Louis was tumbling deeper into love with Harry, and knowing that there was no blocks in the road anymore, he could focus on what was going to happen with them. 

Louis followed Harry to his bedroom, to _their_ bedroom. And there was this tiny glimmer of hope. Having a regular life was not something Louis ever planned on doing, but now it was the only thing he wanted. He wanted to wake up to the smell of coffee and his shirtless puffy eyed boyfriend standing in the kitchen. He wanted movie dates, and not ones that ended with a bloody clean up, because that was never much fun. Either way, it wasn’t something Louis had to worry about anymore, because his priorities were different.

And Harry wanted this, too.

 

****

 

“I have to be there around five or so,” Harry sniffed, tucking his hands in the thick pockets of his coat. His face was already red from the cold air whipping around them. They were standing at Louis’ car, the engine running to keep it warm inside. “But I’ll be back around eight tomorrow morning, will you be up?”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, “Definitely.”

With every word, you could see their breath. It had to be way below freezing, and the puffy snowfall only made it worst. Louis really hated the fucking winter. Like, he really hated it. “Okay,” Harry smiled, “I’ll call you as soon as I get there, sound good?”

“Sounds good, babe. Remember: wear your seatbelt, use your indicators, look before switching lanes.”

“Louis,” Harry rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, “I know how to drive, trust me.”

“A little driver’s one-oh-one never hurts though, just being thorough.”

“Don’t miss me too much tonight, okay?” 

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, before Harry ducked into the car, “Impossible, but I’ll give it a shot. Tell your family I said ‘hi.’”

“I will, I’m sure they’ll be ready to meet you, but timing is key.”

“It is, and we’ll all get together when you’re ready, there’s no rush.”

Louis stood there, reluctant to move so that Harry could shut the door. His face hurt with the smile, his skin dry and achy, “Go another day and let’s cuddle on the couch, yeah?”

“As much as I’d love that, I made a promise.” Harry gave him an apologetic smile, “But I don’t want to slam you in the door, baby.”

Louis stepped back, his face in a pout, lower lip quivering, “How ever will I survive, Harold?”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Harry shook his head, closing the door. He gave Louis a quick smile before sending a wave, taking off to get on the main road.

Louis cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling behind the car, “Slow it down! It’s icy, Harry!”

He laughed at how much of a parent he sounded like, tucking his hand into his pocket to grab his key before heading back into the flat.

He figured he’d spend the day cleaning, throwing away anything he didn’t need to make more room for whatever Harry would like to bring over. It already felt empty without Harry there, and Louis was officially a lost puppy. It was almost comical, really. He put on the television, hoping to drown out the silence with a funny movie, the jokes bound to make him feel a little better. This was the first night Louis had ever spent alone, in weeks, at least. 

He folded clothes, his mind reeling with how everything had turned out last night. It was almost too good to be true. Because he was going to tell Harry, tell him everything even if that meant giving him up. But, it wasn’t just about Louis anymore. Someone else’s happiness was taking president over his own, which was the strangest concept. He wanted Harry to be happy, even if that meant that Louis would have his heart ripped out of his chest when Harry decided to leave. But, on a whim of fate, Harry refused to hear it. He knew that Louis was sure this would ruin them, and that’s not what he wanted.

This wasn’t going to save anything, it was really only going to delay it further, but Louis wasn’t going to deny spending more time with Harry before everything got inevitably ripped away from him. 

A laugh escaped Louis’ lips every now and then, choosing to watch The Hangover again, because that movie was sure to make him crack up. A couple hours had passed, and really, the flat wasn’t even close to being clean. Because Louis sucked at cleaning. But, oh well, it was an attempt. He picked the phone up, looking for any missed calls from Harry, but there were none. He dialed a familiar number, hoping to pass the time.

“Hello?” Niall answered, “Louis?”

“Yeah! Just thought I would see how you were doing?”

“I’m doing well, it’s really different now, though, how’re you?” 

“I’m good.” Louis smiled, knowing Niall couldn’t see it. “I talked to Liam the other day, and he agreed that this lifestyle wasn’t working for him either. I think we’ve all agreed that it’s time to start a new chapter.”

“That’s amazing! Did you meet someone?”

“I did, and I never really got to hear about your significant other.”

“His name is Zayn, it’s not super, super serious just yet. But he’s the one, I can just feel it.”

“How d’you know?”

“I knew it from the moment we met. He’s so amazing, you wouldn’t believe, it’s crazy. I decided to get out of the spree as soon as possible, that way I could focus on maybe having a life that wasn’t centered around, well, you know..”

“I get it Niall, I completely get that.” Louis nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. It was true, though the past was going to be just that, it was still going to be _there._ There was no ignoring that, it would always be something that would stay attached to them.

But Louis still believed he deserved happiness, at least in some part of his fucked up mind. 

He ended up talking to Niall for a bit longer, learning more about the mysterious Zayn and how he captured Niall’s heart. Eventually, when the sky began to go dark, Louis had to end the call, getting the flat and himself ready for bed. It was going to be insanely lonely tonight, with no one to cuddle up next to. It was always the best feeling in the world to curl up in the warm arms of the person you loved, feel their body heat against your skin, there was no feeling that was quite the same. Nothing ever matched it. Now, it was going to be fucking cold.

Louis just really wanted it to be tomorrow already, so that Harry would just be home.

He checked his phone again and again; each time with no avail. He hadn’t heard from Harry, and honestly, he was starting to get really worried. It had been more than four hours since his departure, and he should definitely be there by now, but he said he’d call, didn’t he? Louis sent out a quick text.

_Don’t reply if you’re driving, but please let me know if you’ve gotten there okay, you know I’m going to worry until I hear from you, love. xx_

After the message went through, he jumped into the shower, just a quick cleanse, and hopefully a couple minutes to distract him from everything. He let the hot water run over his skin, already clammy and splotched. But his mind never stopped, ears hyper aware of his phone sitting on the counter on the other side of the curtain. He listened for the familiar ringtone, but it stayed silent. The running water hitting the tile of the shower floor, and deep, controlled breaths.

Louis knew he was worrying for no reason at all, and Harry probably got there and went straight to see his family. This was the first time he’d seen them since the passing of his mother and sister, so he was probably giving them all his attention. Which was absolutely fine. Louis just wished he would fucking text him or call him to let him know he had gotten there safely. 

A hot cup of tea, and a not-so-relaxing snuggling into the couch with a thick blanket, and Louis’ heart was starting to pound harder. He raised his phone to his ear, listening to the call as it went through to Harry’s phone, his teeth grinding against each other.

No answer.

There was still no answer.

Worry was turning into panic.

It’s been all day, and nothing, not a single indication from Harry, and that was very odd of him. Louis threw his phone to the other side of the couch, folding his arms over his stomach. His mind went to a thousand different tangents, what if Harry had taken off? What if he’d caught on to Louis’ past, and he left? What if he was never planning to come back? And the worst possibility, what if Harry never made it down there?

His heart was stammering and his eyes were flicking to the dark screen, waiting for it to light up.

Fuck, he was so paranoid. Being in love _fucking sucks._

Just when Louis was about to give in and blow Harry’s phone up, yes, like a crazy ass boyfriend, his phone started buzzing on the other side of the couch. Louis jumped over, knocking over everything on the table when he flung the blanket off, not bothering to look at the name on the screen before he answered. His voice was desperate, and high with worry.

“Harry?"


	6. Chapter 6

There was a sick silence, “Harry, Harry are you there?”

There was a sound of labored breathing, it sounded muffled, a tinge of a squeak between each inhale. Like, someone was in a lot of pain, but they were holding it in. Louis didn’t want to admit that he knew that was Harry, because he recognized him immediately, “Louis?” He said, his voice straining.

“Yes, baby, what is it?”

Louis jumped to stand, his hand running roughly through his hair, pulling harshly at the roots. “Harry, talk to me, what is it?” He said again after there was no reply.

“I don’t know what happened.” Harry answered, his voice shaky, there were people talking in the background, but they were distant. “There was black ice, I didn’t see it, I lost control of your car, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t give one fuck about the car, are you okay, please tell me you’re okay?”

“No.”

Louis’ stomach dropped to the soles of his feet, going nauseous in an instant. The room felt like it was spinning, but Louis was trying with all he had to keep stable, to keep his voice even, because if he freaked out, it would only make it worst. “Talk to me, what do you see right now?”

“Uhm, lights? Headlights. People are scrambling around, there’s a lot of, a lot of blood. It’s everywhere, Louis. I don’t know if it’s mine or from the person in the other car that I ran into, but I’m so scared.” His voice was breaking, going out, and he was talking through hysterical sobs.

“Keep calm, Harry, stay calm. It’s going to be okay. Have you called an ambulance? Is there one on the way?”

“Mhm.” Harry answered, his voice a mere whimper.

“What is hurting you?”

“Everything Louis, I don’t want to die, I’m not ready to die.”

“Harry,” Louis spoke, his tone weak, “Listen to me, you are going to be fine, it’s going to be okay, are you staying calm, baby?” 

There was a silence, and Louis’ heart was racing, his head going light, “Harry, Harry talk to me, please.”

“I’m trying.” He sounded sleepy. Sounded like he was slowly slipping away. “I’m- I’m trying, and I think it’s working, I’m calm- calming down.” 

Louis bit down on his teeth, grabbing Harry’s car keys and running out the door to the broken down Ford. Where the fuck was that ambulance? The harsh cold was almost painful on Louis’ almost bare body, rushing to the car in nothing but boxers and a thin white shirt. 

“Keep talking to me, baby, okay? Are you excited to see your family? Have you talked to them?” Louis tried to keep his voice from sounding frantic.

“Yeah, they’re expecting me in a couple minutes, but I’m still so far from them, I stopped because I- I was, I-“

“Harry,” Louis half-shouted, “Harry, talk, _please, please_ talk.”

“Starving.” Harry breathed out, making a stomach churning gurgle in the back of his throat. The key was in the ignition, and though he knew Harry was still hours away, he had to try, he absolutely had to try. The car jumped from each turn of the key. The engine would begin, but shut off within seconds. Hot, thick tears were pouring over Louis’ cheeks, his breath fogging in front of him.

“What did you eat, Harry?”

“I have- I had- some kind of s-soup, I think.” 

“Was it good?”

Silence again.

“Harry, baby, don’t let go, please baby, talk to me, keep fighting, it’s going to be okay.”

Silence.

“Harry!” Louis shouted, his voice breaking completely.

“I’m here, Louis, I’m- I’m trying, I can’t..”

“You can, keep fighting, the ambulance will be there any second.” 

Louis' head fell into the steering wheel with a loud thud, his body shaking, his lip being crushed between clenched teeth. Harry took a deep breath, and it was very, very shallow. The voices around him must’ve been from the people who stopped to help after they saw the wreck. He could hear them yelling. 

“I called because- because I had- had to tell you, L-Louis. I had to say goodbye, because I love you, I- I love you so much.” 

“Don’t say goodbye, Harry, this isn’t goodbye, keep talking to me.” Louis’ voice was trembling with every single word, his breath being sucked in loud panting. The cold made it hard to breathe.

But he knew he was lying to Harry, because he had heard the voice of someone dying too many times. And he wasn’t talking Harry through an accident, through the pain. He was talking Harry through his last moments. But that’s exactly what Harry wanted, he knew would happen, and that’s why he called Louis.

“I love you, too, Harry. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, baby. We’ll drink warm coffee, relax on the couch, watch a funny movie. We’ll just talk, and joke around. I can give you as many kisses as your heart desires. How does that sound?”

“It’s- it sounds- sounds lovely.” 

“I watched The Hangover today, I thought about you.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.” Louis smiled, and the action fucking _hurt._

“The blood is coming from me.” Harry said, his voice quivering, “From my, my, my stomach.”

“Put pressure on it, make sure you’re calm or your heart rate will cause you to lose blood quicker, okay Harry, can you do that for me? Can you put pressure on where it’s hurting you?”

“I- I, no. I can’t, I don’t have the energy. I’m so weak, I’m shaky. And I’m scared.”

“Don’t be scared.”

“Don’t let me die, Louis.”

Louis’ heart broke, shattered, came crashing down to the floor in a million tiny pieces. His whole body went freezing cold, his vision getting darker and darker by the second. And everything, _everything_ fucking hurt. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to speak, it hurt to even be alive right now. Everything just, it just _hurt._

“I won’t,” Louis shook his head at the lie, strangled cries falling from his dry lips, “I love you, Harry, I miss you already, it’s only been a day since I’ve seen you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I think I forgot what you looked like.” 

Harry let out a breathy laugh, and his breathing faltered again, growing more and more shallow.

“Harry, listen to me, can you hear me?”

“Mhm.” 

“Close your eyes,” Louis tried, tried so desperately to keep himself from falling, from losing all the strength he had. But this wasn’t about him, it was about Harry. He needed to be comfortable. “Close your eyes, and take a couple deep breaths. Stay calm. Think about what makes you happy, okay?”

Silence, and more labored breathing.

“Think about your family, about how amazing you are, about how many lives you’ve impacted. Think about your family, about how proud they are of you, are you thinking, baby?”

No response.

“Keep your eyes closed, and listen to my voice, let me talk to you, let me tell you how much you mean to me. I fell in love with you so fast, so fast, Harry. Because you’re so special, you’re absolutely amazing. I hope you know that. From your cute dimples, to your comforting voice, to your beautiful eyes. I love your gentle nature, how soft you are. You heart is so pure, so full, you are so, so amazing, baby.” 

The breathing was so shallow, it was nonexistent. There were frantic voices all around, the sounds of cars honking and people yelling. There was a faint siren coming closer.

“I love you, Harry. You’re going to feel relief, okay? You’re going to feel yourself letting go, and that's okay, it’s okay to let go, I’ll see you again. I promise.” 

And then the breathing stopped.

It went dead quiet, even with the blaring sirens. Louis kept the phone pressed to his ear, feeling his body erupt, but he didn’t care. His hands fell limply to his side, all the energy he had pouring out of every crevice. And he was empty.

Crying never hurt this much before. 

The phone jostled, various voices mashing together, Louis unable to make out a coherent sentence. 

“Harry,” He croaked out, knowing Harry could no longer hear him, “Please don’t go, don’t leave me, baby, _please, please, please._ I’m begging you, I love you, don’t go, I can’t handle- I can’t do this, Harry, please.” Louis cried one last plea, saying what he couldn’t say earlier. It came out in rushed, thick sobs, and he knew there was no way any of those words could’ve been made out, even if Harry could’ve still heard him.

The shuffling grew louder, and then the line went silent, and the call was disconnected. 

And then it was the end. 

 

***

 

_He had to have sat in that car for hours, the dead dial tone filling the silent space. With each rough cry, his body ached even more. It was days, days before Louis could finally come out of his flat, his eyes dead, his heart not much different. It seemed more grey, it rained more. Smiling was a extinction, it never happened. It took weeks, weeks before Louis spoke to another person, and even then, all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and stay there forever. The flat was quiet, all of Harry’s belongings still exactly where he left them, and that was where they would stay. The smell of cashmere and mint slowly dissipated, until it wasn’t there at all anymore._

_Now, with the overcast and the cool air, he was sitting in a field, lines of concrete grave stones lined in neat rows. He was sitting crosslegged in the damp grass, soaking through dirty jeans, but he didn’t fucking care. He didn’t care about anything. He was visiting Harry now, the empty spot beside him all too apparent, and it felt like he was being stabbed, but then again he felt absolutely nothing at all. It was an excruciating numb._

_Harry’s name on the gravestone was more painful to read than Louis thought it would be, and he could swear he heard Harry laugh every now and again, And he could still hear his voice floating around the flat. He ached to hear it again. Louis wanted to touch him one more time, feel the warmth of his skin, he wanted to feel their lips pressed together, to feel the hot breath as it ran over his face. He wanted to feel Harry’s larger body, wrapped protectively in his arms. He just really wanted Harry, but this is what he had. A cold field and a silent grave._

_Harry should still be here, he should still be smiling and laughing and making those ridiculous jokes that Louis couldn’t help but laugh at, even though they weren’t even close to being funny. Harry should be sitting right next to him, telling him stories, the crinkles beside his eyes coming out with every wide smile, those beautiful dimples popping out on both of his cheeks. Harry should be coming home with Louis, sleeping in their bed, talking about their future. The future that was no longer existent._

_”I miss you, I miss you every single day. I love you, I will always love you. I hope you can hear me when I talk to you at night, but I don’t know if you do or not. I see you everywhere Harry, but it’s my mind playing tricks on me. Because I miss you so, so fucking much. You don’t even know how much I miss you, baby. I keep expecting to see you out, to have you pop up, or show up at the door. And I keep expecting to wake up, wake up to you right next to me. But, it never happens. They told me time made this easy, but it just gets harder and harder, that’s a damn lie. I hope wherever you are, you’re happy, and I hope you still want to see me again, because I look forward to that every day. I miss you, I love you, never forget that.”_

_Fate firmly held her place as being the biggest bitch there ever was. Because fate brought Harry to Louis, and fate ripped him away._

_But what else could you expect? This is what Louis deserved, what he’d always deserved._

_And now he had a lifetime of feeling the guilt he had pushed upon so many people, feeling the grief. Feeling the pain he had always inflicted._

_Because he could run from his past, but the past always had this way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> due to popular demand, there is an alternate ending, that is the next chapter. It's only about 4.5k but it doesn't have any death, read it if you'd like!


	7. Alternate Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, it was hard to picture exactly how I wanted this story to end. I hope this alternate ending will make reading this story a little easier. 
> 
> Warning: Louis does have a pretty strong panic attack in the beginning of the chapter, so please read with caution and skip over it if you'd like to. 
> 
> Again, if you have any questions/comments or just want to talk, visit me on twitter @curlsbabie or tumblr @subharrybless (i'd love to hear what you're thinking!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this deathless ending!

“Hey,” Harry breathed through the line, “You there? Sorry the phone is breaking up.” 

“Fucking Christ, Harry, you scared me to death, where are you?” Louis asked, the worry in his voice more than prominent as he spoke the rushed words. It had been hours since Harry should’ve arrived at his family’s place.

“I’m sorry, I stopped off to get something to eat, and there was a huge wait for the food, my cell didn’t have signal. I’ve been trying to text you.” Harry explained, “I’m pulling into the driveway right now.”

Louis could feel his entire body rid of pounds and pounds of pure stress, and he felt like his breathing eased a bit, too. He hadn’t realized how worried he really was until he heard Harry’s voice. His fists were clenched, and he had no idea how long they’d been like that. He took a quick deep breath, feeling the expansion of his lungs, “That’s amazing to hear, baby, I’m glad you made it there safely.”

“Whats the matter, you seem stressed?”

“Harry, I’ve been sitting by this phone for _hours_ waiting for you to call, I- I’m not sure, I don’t know, I was just really scared something had happened to you.”

There was a soft giggle on the other end, and it automatically caused a smile to spread on Louis’ features, “Louis, I’m fine, I- _oof._ ”

“What was that?”

“Motherfucking slippery ass ice, fucking great, my ass hurts.” Harry cursed from a muffled distance, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh at Harry’s accident. “Y’okay?”

“No.”

There was a bit of shuffling before the phone picked back up, “I’m sore, thanks for asking.”

“Just for good measure, if you were here with me, your ass would still be hurting, just a different kind of pain.” Louis’ eyebrows shot up, trying to hide the humor in his voice. 

“Don’t tempt me,” Harry smiled, and Louis knew his dimples were popping out beautifully. “I’ll drive all the way back.”

“You should’ve just stayed here, with me.” Louis’ voice fell gentle. 

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning, okay? It’s not long, enjoy your night of freedom.”

“I don’t want that.” Louis bit the inside of his cheek, “I want you here, next to me.” 

There was a silence, and Louis could hear Harry’s footsteps on concrete, walking at a terribly slow pace. He was most likely dragging out the time he could be on the phone before he got inside. “I want to be there, too, Louis. But it’s just one night, that’s all, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too, baby, I love you so much.”

“Until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow.” Louis shook his head at how ridiculous he was being. 

The line finally cut off, and Louis was able to set his phone down without checking the screen religiously while he did so. It was a huge relief to know everything was okay, and hopefully a bit more of the snow would be melted by the time Harry left tomorrow, clearing the roads more. It was strange, really, because worry wasn’t something Louis had ever felt, apart from the ounce of worry he had when he first began killing people, and he was nervous he would get caught. Even then, it dissipated really quickly, and soon he turned overly cocky. So, sensitive was not a word Louis would use to describe himself, until now. Harry had him in the palm of his hand, wrapped around his pretty finger. Louis was solely his, and no matter what, he couldn’t deny it.

He was so deep in love with Harry there would be no escape. Not that he even wanted one.

Harry was like a shining reason it a pit of relentless despair. Where everything seemed so black and white, but he was grey. He was always smiling, and it was annoyingly adorable. Then again, there was always this sincere sadness that was laid beneath that exterior. Because Harry was vulnerable, he was damaged, but he was still more of a man than Louis could ever wish to be. He knew there was something different about that curly haired boy from the moment he had laid eyes on him. The way his heart flipped and his stomach twisted and his face got all hot. His palms were sweating and his mind was going so fast he couldn’t hope to keep up.

Harry was always _different._

And suddenly soul mates didn’t seem like a such an idiotic term. 

He sauntered over to his bed, pulling back the sheets and ignoring the empty feeling he had when the bed didn’t dip down beside him. The bed already felt colder without Harry’s presence, and this night was surely going to be a long one. His body relaxed with each minute that passed by, and then a vibration caused him to jolt. He picked up his phone from the night stand, squinting as his tried to read through the bright screen.

_Goodnight, my love._

It was so simple and it meant so much at the same time. Louis really wanted to pick the phone up and call him immediately, spill his fucked up heart to Harry and hope that all is well once its done and over. But, if there was one thing that never ceased to expel itself from Louis’ subconscious, it was Harry finding out about Louis. About who he really was. Finding out about all the blood that stained his hands and that every bit of money Louis had used for their dates was spent at the life of another person. He was a sick fuck, and has never once accepted that he was good enough for Harry, because that would have been so far from the truth, really. And it sucks, it does, that this is what Louis’ life will always be, hiding who he was in order to experience happiness he shouldn’t even be able to have. He was one thing and one thing only, a _monster_ and Harry is so pure, loving, trusting. He fell too hard for someone as dangerous and disgusting as Louis, without even knowing it. 

Louis had always questioned, what was the likeliness he would stay if Louis told him everything? 

The odds weren’t promising, not at all, and that was what made this whole thing so fucking hard. He wanted Harry, he needed him, but he didn’t deserve him. Louis could be arrested any moment, taken into jail and left to rot (as he should) and then how would Harry take it? What if Louis let it slip in the middle of a regular conversation, just the tiniest hint that he knew a little too much about murder than the average person. Because Harry is smart, he would connect the two. Someone as rich as him, finding love seemingly out of the blue with someone who has a mysterious past and is too knowledgable about where vital organs are and the best place to stab. He’d put the pieces together and solve the puzzle Louis had tried so hard to make impossible, scattering the pieces but never able to rid of them completely. 

And now his mind was spinning, his heart was speeding up and helicoptering in his chest, violently against his ribcage because living like this wouldn’t last long, and the longer he kept it going the more painful it would be when it all came crashing down around him. So, he stood up, running his quivering hand through his hair, ignoring the way the room seemed to tilt back and forth and suddenly he was disconnected, and nothing felt real. Something in his core had snapped and his body shot into hysterics, shaking uncontrollably and he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. Everything was just out of reach, and he was seeing the faces of every single person he had watched die under his touch, he saw all the families on the news channels that cried so hard they were gagging, begging to have some type of closure, asking Louis through the screen, “ _why did you do this to us?_ ” He saw the twisted smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face, null of any regret or guilt. Then he saw Harry’s face, his eyes, his smile, the tiny freckles that stood out against his porcelain skin. 

He saw the light around him burning out, turning dark, because it was all being sucked out, and all the innocence and purity that made Harry who he was disintegrated. Louis knew he was to blame. 

Then his feet carried him to the bathroom, his stomach lurching painfully as he expelled everything into the toilet, his hands planted on the cold, tile floor. He wanted so badly to change, to be a better person and thats what he had been doing. But it was a facade, it was fake. Not killing anymore wouldn’t bring back the lives of the people he had taken. It wouldn’t soothe the families and it wouldn’t clear his past. He had been working through a maze, trying to find the end in a desperate rush, so that he could start over with a new life. But, he came face to face with a stone wall, and Harry was just on the other side, always out of reach. And the same phrase seemed to seep through the concrete wall that separated them, it seemed to soak the room and drip like venom. _Goodnight, my love._ _Goodnight, my love._ _Goodnight, my love._

At once it was like his body subconsciously relaxed, imagining the sound of Harry’s voice and it only served to make him vulnerable as the next tirade of guilt slammed into him. And it was even worst this time. His hands started to burn, his legs were too weak to stand and the screams of his victims were igniting the room in a fiery angst, engulfing him. The feeling of hot blood covering his arms made him jump back into the wall, eyes wide and it was all _too_ real, it was too much. All of the guilt and regret he had swerved for years was coming back like a raging storm and it was mad, it was so fucking pissed and hell bent on making Louis experience the worst kind of torture. Not the kind that hurt you physically, but dissected your mind from the inside out. Opening the closet door all those murders where stored behind and allowing them full rein, crashing and breaking everything Louis had built to replace the memories. 

They attacked Harry, picked him apart and left nothing, they attacked his voice, his entire presence. 

His head was pounding as he sank to the floor, arms wrapped around his head and a strangled cry poured from his dry lips, not loud enough to be heard over the screams that echoed off the wall. 

It was Abraham Cecil, July tenth. He had two children. 

It was Christopher Glockin, April fifteenth. He was still grieving the death of his wife. 

It was Taylor Hettinger, December fourth. He was only twenty one, he had his whole life ahead of him. 

Just a few names mixed in with hundreds more, each taking turns burning holes into Louis’ skin, pressing hot against him with malicious intent, it broke him, shattered all that was left standing of him until he was burning alive. 

So he did the only thing he could think to do, he ran to his room. His legs were weak and his stomach was still in knots, his bangs drenched to his forehead as he grabbed his cell, fingers typing as he looked through tear veiled eyes at the message. 

Sent directly to Harry, _We need to talk._

 

****

 

 

He ended up asleep on his bedroom floor, wrapped into his own arms. When he finally woke up, the sun was searing through the window pane, landing directly on him. He was a mess, tears staining his cheeks and his throat hurting from each detrimental screams he had let out begging that someone had heard him. It hurt to stand up, it hurt really to do anything because the abuse that poured down on him last night took every bit of energy out of him and bulldozed that frame that was still left standing. He felt like a shell, and he honestly had no fucking idea letting his mind think about Harry could release this type of war on him mentally. It was like he had a key and unlocked all of the demons Louis had hidden, and they attacked him with absolutely no mercy whatsoever. It was what he deserved. He’s not even entirely sure he can speak, but he does know Harry will be here any time, and he knows his phone is littered with several messages and missed calls after the random text from last night, but he couldn’t bring his body to check it. So he sat on the floor in a puddle of his own shame and waited. 

Every minute that ticked by should make Louis freak out even more, but nothing. He felt nothing. 

He wanted to be nervous, but he wasn’t considering the fact that this needed to happen or what happened last night was going to be a regular thing. And it was the guilt that would kill him. 

His stare was blank and vacant as he looked at the door handle, waiting for it to jiggle. He never wanted this, he never wanted to fall in love with Harry and bring him into this mess. Most of all, he wishes he had lived his life differently. He should’ve gone to college, he should’ve made amends with his mother, he should’ve been more present in her life. He should’ve gotten a job and worked to be somebody in this world. He should’ve met Harry under different circumstances, had a family with him, had a future with him. He should be smiling right now, he should have a clean slate and a life he could be proud of but instead his went and fucked everything up and ruined any chances of being a normal, happy person in a relationship with the most amazing man who ever walked this planet. 

Finally, the familiar voice rung through the wooden door, a simple “Shit, it’s cold.” As the key was pressed into the lock. And then Harry was standing there in all the beauty that entranced him and he looked even more angelic after the demonic night Louis had experienced. His face twisted into worry at the sight of Louis sitting on the floor, looking absolutely pummeled beyond belief. For the first time since last night, Louis felt something, he felt his heart flutter in his broken chest, he felt his entirety pulling towards Harry, begging for his touch, but knowing it would only burn him more. “Hi, Harry.” 

“Louis, I-“ Harry rushed over, falling to his knees beside Louis on the floor, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked like he was on the verge of tears when Louis flinched away, it hurt too much. 

“We need to talk.” His voice was dry and cracked, it was low and the pain was adamant in every syllable. 

“I got your message, tell me baby, what’s bothering you?”

“You love me, you love the wrong _me._ ” His words were a whisper, Harry sat all the way down, crossing his legs and holding Louis’ hands in his own. Cashmere and mint peppered into Louis’ senses, he hated that it smelled like home. 

“Tell me what that means, Louis, please.” 

“I am-“ Louis’ lower lip quivered, suddenly it was hard to speak, it felt like he had a hand around his neck, because he wanted to avoid this with everything he had. “Not the person you think I am, Harry, I have- I have done so many things, b-bad, very bad things.” 

“We’ve all done things we regret, baby.” Harry laughed humorously, it was an attempt to lighten the mood, he visibly deflated when it didn’t work. Louis was silent. 

“Okay, just tell me, no more tip toeing around. If it’s bothering you this much, Louis, tell me. You look like you’ve been emotionally tortured, despair is basically radiating off of you.” 

“You’ve heard about the murders, the kills centered around rich, uh, wealthy people.” It wasn’t a question. Louis was nauseous again. He squeezed his eyes closed, his heart a mangled mess in his chest. “It was me.” 

The silence that followed was sickening, two full minutes passed, “You didn’t kill those people. Not you, it couldn’t have been you. T-tell me it wasn’t you, Louis.” Harry’s voice was like a hammer to Louis’ broken body, it was so pained, it was so.. betrayed. Louder this time, “Tell me it wasn’t you!”

The anger is so pungent and unequivocal, it’s silent and screaming simultaneously, brutally. Unspoken words are pouring from the walls, dripping slowly to the floor in venomous syllables that sting with contact, melting you to the bone, disintegrating any patience. The molten outrage has soiled the air between them, but it was paired with an even stronger emotion, deceit, rejection. They battled in the space that lingered unwelcome in the small flat. It was a tug of war inside Harry’s head, he was so mad, but he was so betrayed, when Louis finally looked at him, Harry looked lost. He looked like the only thing he knew was ripped from him and then it wasn’t only his family he had lost, but the trust he had towards Louis, all the love that pooled in his iris’ was evaporated and it was only hate that ghosted in its wake. 

Louis said nothing, just turning his head away, unable to look at Harry. And just when he thought nothing could make him hurt even worst, Harry’s hands were gone from his own, and it was the confirmation he had been expecting, he had lost him completely. Harry immediately stood up, and Louis couldn’t bare to see the blatant disgust he knew was tattooed all over Harry’s face, it would always be there whenever he thought of Louis now. “Is that why you, is that why I was-“ 

Harry couldn’t finish his sentence, the realization too harsh, it almost knocked him from his feet.

“Yes.” 

It was unnecessary, completely and utterly, it was avoidable and the fact that it happened in the first place makes Louis’ skin tingle with a heat that is searing and relentless, his teeth clenched so tight that his head is pounding with the pressure. It hurts, right now everything does. This pain is as physical as it is emotional, it digs in the harder he thinks, it aches more, his mind is sending waves of irritation through his already tender limbs and his heart is bruised and beaten. Dry tears have stained his cheeks and the corners of his eyes, a clear and obvious sign of an internal battle that he’s lost, waving the white flag and succumbing to his the worst thing he could possibly imagine, admitting this was reality, there’s no returning from it and his heart is squeezing and contracting with each breath. He didn’t have to kill those people, he didn’t have to go through this, but this is the life he chose. He’s never hated anyone as much as he hates himself, and thats all reflected in Harry’s stare, he is absolutely repulsed, he should be. 

All that Louis could do was sit there, empty of everything he once was as Harry hastily packed whatever he could get his hands on, but he had to say at least one thing before he watched Harry walk out of his life, “I love you, I do. I never planned to fall for you, but it was impossible not to. You were making me better-“

“Stop,” Harry’s tone sliced through the air, sharp and forced, “Don’t you fucking say that to me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You know what Louis?” Harry stopped in his tracks, looking at Louis dead in the eye, “When I met you, I thought you were god sent to me because of how destroyed I was after losing my whole family. I thought you were the happiness I couldn’t find anywhere else. You were my miracle, Louis.” 

“You were mine t-“

“No. You used me, I was vulnerable and broken and you used that to your advantage, you were going to kill me, you were going to _kill_ me.” Harry’s voice cracked, his eyes betraying him by releasing pained tears to slide down his face. Before Louis could respond, Harry asked, “Did you stop? After we dated, did you stop?” 

“There was one more, but that was a long time ago, I haven’t wanted to. I’ve been trying to be a better person for you, I tried to shove it all away and pretend it never happened, Harry, but I couldn’t do that, not to you.” 

“You’re lucky I’m not going to the cops right now, because I should, I should have you locked away for life after what you’ve done to those people. But you’re going to get whats coming to you, Louis.” 

And that was the last thing Harry Styles said, before grabbing everything he owned and leaving. 

 

 

****

 

 

It’s been almost a year. 

 

Harry never went to the cops, they never came and arrested Louis though he wishes they would've. It would be a lot easier to live in a cell with concrete walls than to be here surrounded with the memories of he and Harry’s relationship. The pain hasn’t dulled. not even slightly. And even though Louis had come forward with the truth, the demons of his past still attacked him every single night. Most of the time, he woke up on the bathroom floor, but as time passed it made it a normalcy, it didn’t get better. He hasn’t even touched a knife, a gun, nothing. He hasn’t spoken to Liam or Niall, but he wonders if they go through this, too. 

Louis’ at least tried to make something of his life, getting a job at some run down little gas station down the road. He’s trying to be helpful, donating money every chance he gets just like Harry would do. He sees him on television a lot, all of the amazing things that Harry does for people never goes unnoticed. He’s one of the most appreciated people in the country, hell, maybe even the world. He still doesn’t smile the same, but he looks happier and happier the more distance time puts between them. Hearing his voice every so often makes Louis’ heart wrench, it makes it contract and it brings back the most painful memories of all, the moments he had where Harry had belonged to him, and he had belonged to Harry. He still wants that with everything he has in his life, he wants to wake up next to Harry, seeing his lashes flitter open and that beautiful green strike him immediately. He wants to feel the touch of his hand and smell the wonderful mixture of cashmere and mint dance around his senses and permanently mark itself onto Louis fondest recollections. 

It’s never going to happen. But Harry is alive and living to the fullest he can, and Louis is doing everything in his power to be a better person in the life he has remaining. He has Harry’s impact to thank for that. 

Nothing will make up for things he has done, but as each day passes he tries a little harder. He’s given up on love, Harry still holds his heart and nothing will change that, but he feeds off others' happinesses. 

His flat is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand by his bed, the soft tune of music playing in the background. Louis finds that having light and listening to songs that he likes makes the pain hit a little easier through the night. The sheets are cool over his body, air whipping around from the fan. He’s giving himself six more months of helping out wherever he can before he turns himself in, accepting that even with all the good he can provide it’s really the only way he will feel like he fully paid the price of all the mistakes he’s made in the past, and it’s something he’s finally willing to do. His eye lids are heavy, but he pulls his phone up, squinting to see the bright screen as he searches to read the same thing he reads every single night before he finally falls asleep, the words that keep him going every single day, the same phrase that once shattered him to pieces.

_Goodnight, my love._

His voice is light as air, the tiniest of smiles peaking onto the corner of his lips, “Goodnight, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm SORRY about this, hopefully you enjoyed reading the story! if you have any questions/comments you can come talk to me on Twitter @hipkink or tumblr @subharrybless whenever you like, I welcome all new friends, and I'd love to hear what you thought of the fic. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> ALSO: some have requested some one shots peering into their future, I would love to write some more if the readers would be willing to read them, so you guys let me know! Twitter/tumblr users are ^^there and you can also just leave me a comment below, thanks again!


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